An Unpleasant Beginning
by Ashii Black
Summary: To make Snape more pleasant to be around, Harry and his friends try to set him up with their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Unfortunately, after an interesting encounter during one of his detentions, Harry can't seem to get the git out of his head. Warning for Chan 17, slight dub-con, m/m slash, rimming, infidelity, and explicit NON HP/SS (between Harry and Terry Boot)
1. Detention

****Remember when I said I would take A Pleasant Ending and make it a full-length fic? Well, I did. It was submitted to the Severus/Harry Big Bang on the snape_potter community. It is past the period of exclusivity, so here goes! I'm posting the first two chapters here, which is a good chunk of the original oneshot (only much is added AND edited like crazy). I'd like to thank **icicle33, drarryxlover, and gingertart50** for the beta/Britpick job! Without you guys, this fic would be awful. Also, see the artwork created by **daisygirl_080** on the snape_potter comm!

Enjoy

**Chapter 1: Detention**

Harry was sitting down in his usual spot at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall next to Ron and Hermione, eating dinner. It was a normal late September night at Hogwarts. Classes had started to get more intense, with it being their seventh and final year at school. Everything was completely normal. Even Harry's Potions class had got off to a normal start.

"The slimy git! He's making me clean out the cauldrons again! And a group of third years brewed Sticking Solution today. Just because I – "

" – decided to use every swearword in the book during class when he accused you of cheating and gave you a D?" Hermione finished for him, looking at him disapprovingly.

"Well – " sputtered Harry and glanced at Ron, who shrugged. Since he and Hermione started dating, Ron had perfected the neutral shrug; it was the only way Ron survived disputes between Harry and Hermione. Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to Hermione. "I don't understand why he's been so terrible to me. He hasn't been this cruel in a long time."

"It is strange," Hermione agreed. "Are you sure you haven't done anything to get on his bad side, Harry? Even Snape isn't that unreasonable."

"I guess it started when he caught me and Ginny – um – studying together," Harry explained and turned red, avoiding Ron's face.

"Maybe he's angry that the Boy-Who-Lived can get lucky when he can't," Seamus suggested, joining them at the table in the Great Hall. Harry moved over so Seamus could fit in.

He picked up the roll from his plate and tore off a piece glumly. "So what, you think that if Snape was to get a good shag, he'd be nicer to me?" Harry asked.

"You haven't ever heard the phrase, 'sounds like she needs a good roll in the sack'?" Seamus responded. "It seems to me like Snape hasn't had any action in ages. Who knows? Maybe he'll be nicer after he gets rid of his permanent stiffy."

"Yeah, but who would want to sleep with that?" Ron asked, his nose turned up in disgust.

"Well," began Hermione, "I remember that one day when he washed his hair and shaved his goatee. And he is intelligent, despite his unpleasant treatment of –"

"Please don't tell me you fancy Snape, Mione."

"Of course not!" she shrieked, covering her mouth with her hand. "I'm just suggesting that maybe someone could."

"But who? Maybe our new Defense professor?" Harry asked, glancing at Professor Selhorn. She had dark hair, blue eyes, and a rare smile that seemed to affect everyone in the room. She was rather harsh and frequently worked her students to the point of sweat and tears. She would be perfect, just Snape's type.

"You know, I have seen Snape looking at her with a hungry look," Ron said. "Of course, maybe it's that he just fancies her job instead."

"So how do we set them up?" Harry asked, pushing his plate away from him and looking at his friends. "I'm desperate enough to try anything."

"I guess we need to work on Selhorn. Snape would never try anything himself. We need to get her to fancy him," Seamus said.

"Okay, Hermione, you need to do some girl talk."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Harry. "You think a professor in her mid-30s is going to 'girl talk' with a seventh year student?"

"Well, who else would you have to turn to? The rest of the female staff are ancient. Also, you're so brilliant that the professors have asked you to substitute for them, have they not?" Ron responded, loading up his plate with turkey and mashed potatoes.

Hermione blushed. "That is a valid point. I assume you want me to ask her something about boys and act like a confused teenager?" she asked, turning to Harry, who nodded. "It shouldn't be too hard; I've been listening to Lavender and Parvati for more than six years."

Harry sniggered and ate a dinner roll. "I don't have much time, Snape arranged for my detention to happen in the middle of dinner."

"What a bastard," Ginny commented, sneaking up behind Harry and kissing him on the cheek. As she sat down next to him, she took a slice of ham from the middle of the table and put it on her plate.

"Hey Gin. We're planning on having Selhorn seduce Snape," Ron explained.

"That would be an interesting partnership. The two meanest teachers together? Is that really a good idea?"

"It would make them nicer, don't you think?"

"Or they would be able to plan out who their next victim is and terrorize us all one at a time in a systematic fashion," Ginny replied.

Clearly, Ron had not considered this. A bit of mashed potatoes fell out of his mouth, which was open in a horrified "O". Harry tried not to laugh as Ron said, "No. That couldn't happen. No…no…"

"Well, I'd better be off. I have to go and scrub some cauldrons," Harry told Ginny and made a sour face. "No chance at getting Snape a good shag before my detention?" he asked the table.

"Not unless it's you, mate," Seamus joked, causing the entire table to laugh.

Harry walked out of the Great Hall looking as though he had been asked to spend more time with Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts. He was not pleased with this outcome; however, the look on Snape's face when he called him a "greasy-haired twat" was actually almost worth the detention. The man _had_ been crueler to him lately—intentionally breaking all of his vials, putting out his cauldron in the middle of an important lesson on temperature, verbally abusing him throughout the entire school day, making fun of his hair, his glasses, even the way that he walked.

He stepped down the stairs to the dungeons, ignoring the jeers from the Slytherins as they passed by him. Thinking about the plan to get Snape laid helped him relax though. Ginny was wrong. Hell, he knew if he got to have sex, he would be in a better mood too. Unfortunately, he and Ginny had only groped under their clothes a couple of times, which was starting to put him on edge.

Yet, there was something about Ginny that Harry found odd. He definitely enjoyed kissing her, and he definitely didn't mind when she stroked his cock. But touching her breasts was not what he expected it to be like. It didn't give him that victorious leap in his chest that his dorm mates had alluded to. Perhaps they were elaborating on it; they just wanted everyone to think they were sex gods. Or maybe he just wasn't interested in women?

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. No, now was not the time to think of such rubbish, especially since he had just reached Snape's office. He took a deep breath and braced himself for what was sure to be a memorable detention. He knocked on the door to Snape's office. Snape had requested that he do the detention in his office instead of his classroom. Harry had found that request strange, but he knew better than to question the dreadful Potions Master. Who knew what kind of torture Snape had brewed up for him tonight?

What was most unsettling, however, was that Harry had not been to Snape's office since the 'accident' in Snape's Pensieve fifth year. This was going to be a nightmare.


	2. A Pleasant Ending

**Chapter 2: A Pleasant Ending**

"Come in, Mister Potter."

Harry walked in and gave the office a quick glance over, hoping to find any sort of non-Potions related hobby, so he could relay it back to Hermione regarding the Get-Snape-Laid project. No such luck. He just saw weird ingredients and cauldrons.

"Well, Mr. Potter, because I am a – how did you put it? – an 'arrogant fuckwad', I am _unable_ to clean these cauldrons satisfactorily. Since I hear you do a lot of housework at your Muggle relatives' home, perhaps you could be of assistance?" Snape glared at Harry with such sinister eyes that Harry's lip quivered.

"May I use my wand, sir?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer. Apparently, he didn't.

"You see, because I'm such an 'idiotic shithead,' I didn't even think of trying to clean it with magic. Why don't you try it and perhaps you can get back from your detention early so you can go foul up the crevices of this castle?" Snape scoffed.

Harry should have known it was a trap. He had hoped that Snape didn't want him there – that he could quickly clean the cauldrons and get out of there. That was, of course, wishful thinking. Severus Snape was a man as evil and vindictive as a professor could get.

"_Scourgify_!" he said, pointing at the nearest cauldron.

The cauldron exploded. Pieces of pewter and old Sticking Solution flew through the air. Luckily, Harry had enough time to duck behind Snape's desk to avoid the disaster. He watched as Snape sniggered, safely encased in a Shield Charm.

"ARE YOU MAD?" Harry roared. "YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME!"

Snape rolled his eyes. "You appear to be alive. Have you learned this new drama from your red-haired girlfriend, or are you just naturally this much of a pansy?"

"A PANSY? YOU SET A HEX SO WHEN I TRIED TO CLEAN THE CAULDRON, IT FUCKING EXPLODED!"

"You foolish idiot, this was part of your detention. Since when have you EVER been stupid enough to actually believe anything I said? Clearly not at Potions. Clearly not at Occlumency; what could possibly have motivated you to do anything I suggested?" Snape hissed at Harry, who was turning red from anger.

"I don't know, it could have been that I wanted to get out of this fucking office! I would do anything to get out of here and actually be doing something productive! You get satisfaction by hurting me EVERY FUCKING DAY, and you don't have any other reason for it except you hated that my dad and his friends bullied you in school!"

Snape, who seemed to be unnerved by this mention of James Potter, crossed his arms and stepped within inches of Harry. Leering into his face, he said, "You deserve the treatment you receive from me, running around and breaking the rules. Potter, you think that you're above everyone else, but I know the truth. You're just an immature boy who doesn't understand anything about the world." Snape paused and uncrossed his arms. "However, I won't deny that I receive a small amount of satisfaction in ruining your perfect Gryffindor day."

Harry, now seething, responded with, "Right, because you can't get satisfaction anywhere else."

"What was that?" Snape asked, pulling his head back, his face not quite as blank.

"You torment us because you haven't been laid in years," Harry snapped.

"We actually were trying to find someone for you to fuck, just so you might be in a better mood to make lessons more bearable." When Snape said nothing, Harry continued, despite every bit of his conscience telling him to stop and run away as fast as possible. "I saw the way you looked at me and Ginny when you caught us. You're jealous that I get to have sex and you can't. No one wants to touch you."

At this point, Harry knew he had gone too far. Snape shook with fury.

"Is that – what you think?" he said in a voice that was so smooth, Harry briefly wondered if it was actually coming from Snape's mouth. It didn't seem to match the venomous man in front of him. "That I'm – jealous – of YOU?"

Harry shrank into the wall as Snape closed in on him. Harry could see every pore on Snape's face, his deep black eyes penetrating every inch of Harry's soul. Snape was too close. Something stirred at the bottom of his stomach, but he failed to place the feeling. Yes, there was fury in there, just as there always was, but something else…something disturbing. He could practically feel the adrenaline rushing through his ears. His heart was pounding so hard, he could practically taste it. What was that feeling?

"You think – that – that – " Snape said, the shaking finally catching up to his voice as he came within inches of Harry's face, his white hands clutching Harry's shoulders in place.

"I think what?" Harry whispered, tilting his head up and leaving his mouth slightly open. Harry knew what was going to happen before it did, and for some odd reason, he failed to care. Snape was too close, but Harry didn't feel uncomfortable. He noted that Snape had recently shaved, his stubble just starting to grow back. He could see every strand of the man's jet-black hair, the scowl finally melted away. Snape had been this close before, but he felt heat radiating off both of their bodies. Harry knew what was going to happen barely seconds before it did, and for some odd reason, he failed to care.

Snape closed the gap between their mouths, crushing their lips together. He pulled back immediately, shocked at what he had done himself. But Harry would have none of it. That feeling in the pit of his stomach was shaping up to be desire. This was no time for thinking; at that moment, he knew exactly what he wanted.

Harry stepped forward, grabbed Snape by his hair and pulled him back into a fierce kiss. Kissing Ginny had never felt this good. It was as though now, finally, he was experiencing a real kiss. The rest were just fake. Here, kissing his professor, he felt as though a set of Filibuster's Fireworks were going off inside of him. Tongues and teeth crashed together as Harry jumped onto Snape and in his arms, straddling him. Snape tightened his arms around Harry, squeezing him so hard, his breathing became compromised. Harry almost failed to notice, as he was experiencing bliss he never knew existed. He clutched Snape's hair as they kissed. He was surprised to find the hair soft, instead of dirty and greasy as he always expected it to be. He rubbed his growing erection up and down Snape's midsection to try to give himself a bit of relief. Even through their clothes, Harry could feel Snape's taut abs and firm waist. He was shocked at how warm the older man felt and how right this all seemed.

Snape moaned and turned Harry so he was pressed against the wall. He pulled back and began sucking on Harry's neck as he undid the button on Harry's trousers and slipped his hand inside of them. It was Harry's turn to cry out in pleasure, unable to do anything but clutch the man holding him even harder.

Snape dropped Harry's legs and disappeared under Harry's robes. Harry suddenly realized he was standing with nothing covering his legs. He rather quickly noticed Snape had taken his cock fully in his mouth.

Up and down bobbed Snape's head; each time, Harry's cock seemed to delve deeper into his throat. Harry was reduced to babbling through near sobs, begging him to go faster. He clutched at Snape's desk beside him to hold himself up. When Snape began stroking his perineum, Harry's vision exploded into white as he expelled his seed down Snape's throat.

After a few moments had passed, Snape removed his mouth and stood up, leaving Harry to slump against the wall and onto the floor, panting. "That was –" he choked out.

"You're not finished," Snape said in a low, husky voice as he began to remove his own trousers. Harry sucked in a breath. What next? He gazed at Snape and watched him slide out of his robes as well. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. Hermione was right. While he wasn't the most attractive bloke in the world, he was quite fit. He was lean but still had ripples of muscle up and down his body. Harry swallowed in anticipation as Snape laid Harry down on his back and kissed him again. This time, though, it was softer, slower, as though Snape was trying to savor every moment. Harry ran his hands up and down Snape's back as his tongue gently pushed into his professor's mouth. Snape stiffened, pulled away, and muttered a spell, making Harry's arse feel slick, wet, and open. Harry then realized what was about to happen and looked at Snape, panic showing in his face.

"Don't be afraid," he said, pulling Harry's legs around his waist and positioning himself at Harry's entrance.

"I just didn't expect – "

"Stop talking and live in the moment," Snape said with a hint of frustration in his voice.

Harry unclenched himself and allowed Snape to penetrate him. A burning sensation flooded through his body. Wincing, he tried to wiggle around a bit to get more comfortable. After the initial pain, a soft pleasantness began to waft through him, stirring his previously spent cock. Snape began to move, thrusting slowly but deeply. As Harry relaxed, he began to get more and more enjoyment out of this sex, eventually encouraging Snape to move harder and faster.

The moment Snape touched a spot inside Harry – a spot he didn't even know existed – Harry knew he fancied blokes. This spot made Harry cry out louder than he had ever done so before, made him wild inside, wanting more contact. He pulled Snape down to him, kissing him with abandon, thrusting himself up to hit that spot he enjoyed so much.

Snape began to thrust harder and faster, his strokes becoming less systematic and more frantic as both of their orgasms built. Harry wrapped his fingers around his member and began to stroke himself. The feeling of both Snape's cock in his arse and his hands around his own cock brought his second orgasm rather quickly. He cried out as he spurted between them, feeling Snape grow warmer and come to completion as well, emptying himself into Harry.

They stayed like that, catching their breath and staring into each other's eyes for quite some time. Eventually, Snape pulled out and rolled over. Harry sat up silently, looking him up and down. What now?

"Your detention is completed," Snape told Harry as he straightened out his trousers to put them on.

"Oh," Harry said, a shy smile forming on his lips as he slid his trousers on as well. "Well, I probably should…."

"You should."

"Do be more cheerful tomorrow, yeah?"

Snape didn't answer and Harry turned and walked away, closing his office door behind him.


	3. Self Counseling

**Chapter 3: Self-Counseling**

As Harry walked – or rather – ran – from Snape's office; the weight of what had happened began to sink in. Not only had he just been fucked and had his cock sucked, it had been done by none other than Severus Snape.

Harry couldn't help but ponder the things Snape had said to him: "You think – I'm jealous – of YOU?" The astonished note in his voice made Harry curious. Was he jealous? Was the great git just looking to scare him? Was this just part of his detention? Some sort of power play?

All of this thinking was making him sick. He felt his dinner come up and he ran to the nearest toilet. As he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl, a wave of shame hit him. He had cheated on Ginny.

Okay, so he knew he fancied blokes, but maybe he fancied girls too. Maybe this was just a fluke. He got caught up in the moment. Maybe it was him just being a hormone-driven teenage boy. It probably just meant nothing. He loved Ginny! She stayed with him, even after he had tried to break up with her last year. Despite the dangers, her love for him was clear.

Harry already knew he would never tell anyone about this, ever. This was _Snape_, the greasy git that tormented him and his friends, for over six years. This was the man that took great pleasure in verbally abusing him at any opportunity he could get. He could barely live with _himself_; he could hardly imagine how his friends would react to the situation.

Still, he couldn't help but remember those soft words, how trustworthy Snape had sounded when he had told Harry to "stop thinking and live in the moment". The look of compassion on his face, despite the impatient undertones, definitely confused Harry more than he would have liked it to. Snape was thirty-seven years old; what could he possibly want with a seventeen year old boy, much less one that he hated?

Harry sat back against the cool stall door and tilted his head up to the ceiling. Snape was just wound too tightly and needed a good shag, just as he and his friends had discussed barely even an hour ago. It would be best to forget that it had ever happened—that Snape had just tried to kill him with that exploding cauldron and he had left in a fury. That was the story he told his friends as well as the story he would tell himself until he believed it.

Harry found it difficult to make it all the way up to the Gryffindor Tower. Despite Snape's preparation and lubrication spell, his insides burned. This pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Nothing could compare to the Cruciatus Curse, but this, though, was strange and new. He felt pain, almost like the ache of a rug burn but with a hint of a bruise. There was also a feeling of emptiness inside of him, as though there should be something there but wasn't. Despite his soreness, he longed to experience it again. It didn't have to be Snape though. Or did it?

As he approached the Fat Lady, he heard someone calling behind him.

"Hey, Neville," he said, turning around.

"How was your detention with Snape?" Neville asked with a sympathetic face.

"Oh, you know, he blew up a cauldron at me, so, the usual." Harry shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner.

Neville shook his head. "Something really does need to be done about that monster."

"It's true." Harry nodded as they gave the password to the Fat Lady ("sugarquill") and climbed through the entrance. "Have you heard about our plan?"

"The one about him and Selhorn? Yeah," Neville answered. "I think it's a great idea. Anything to make him more pleasant is worth a shot, you know?"

"Definitely," Harry agreed.

As they walked toward the couches, they saw Ron and Hermione sitting down, bickering about homework.

"No, Ron, if you do that, you'll end up exploding the pig, not turning it into a bookcase."

"But McGonagall said to! Look, I even took notes!" Ron insisted.

Hermione shook her head and smiled as she read the notes. "See? You even wrote it here! 'Do NOT flick your wand to the right'."

Ron stared at her. "'Mione, why do you always have to be right?" He threw his hands in the air, exasperated.

"But you were right, too. Or at least your notes were," Hermione reminded her boyfriend and stroked his back.

Harry and Neville took a seat on the sofa across from Ron and Hermione. "Transfiguration homework?" Harry asked.

"Yep," Ron responded, continuing to point and maneuver his wand – away from everyone else, of course. "How was the detention?"

"Snape blew a cauldron up at him," Neville answered before Harry had a chance to open his mouth.

"Bloody hell!" Ron cried. "Harry, what happened?"

"The usual. I was supposed to clean some dirty cauldrons, he basically suggested I use magic, and when I did, the sodding cauldron blew up. I had to hide behind his desk."

"Then what happened?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide with horror.

"I told him he was fucking mad and left."

"But you've been gone for a while. Why didn't you come straight up here?" Hermione asked.

Harry frowned. This lying thing was harder than he thought. Plus, Hermione was an insistent person who always wanted every detail about everything going on around her. This would be fun. "I was just so furious," he said slowly. "I needed to calm down, so I ended up going down to the lake. You know, there's that little clearing on the west end."

"Oh, alright. I'm glad you're okay, mate," Ron said, patting Harry's arm.

Harry nodded. "Me too." He silently agreed with himself.

"I just can't believe a professor would do something like that!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yeah mate, he really does hate you," Ron commented.

"I just wish I knew why. Why me?" Harry asked dramatically, only half joking.

"Weren't we discussing this before you left for detention?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"Oh yeah. I guess we were," Harry answered.

"The git needs to get laid," Ron said with a tone of finality.

Neville and Hermione nodded in agreement. Harry sighed. "I'm in, especially if it will get him to stop blowing up cauldrons in my face."

The group all looked at each other. "Right, then. We should probably make plans and then maybe try to get Selhorn to start pursuing him a few weeks from now?" Ron asked.

The conversation continued without Harry's attention. He couldn't bring himself to focus. Other thoughts were taking over his mind. Wasn't Snape gay? Was he even interested in sex with someone closer to his age? He obviously had superb cock-sucking skills—skills he only could have gained through extensive practice. He also knew that…preparation spell. Harry shuddered. He still felt dirty and wrong about this whole thing.

And rightfully so! Snape was a fucking professor who fucked his own student! So what if Harry had encouraged him and then, well, dove in head first? Harry was a teenage boy, driven purely by hormones; Snape was a fully grown adult who should be able to resist a piece of arse – however attractive that arse was.

Yes, this was definitely Snape's fault. Unfortunately, he didn't feel angry enough about this as Harry felt he should feel. He had no interest in confessing what had transpired between the two of them to McGonagall or Dumbledore. Harry couldn't decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

It would be better not to think about this Harry decided. It was, however, difficult to do so when every time he adjusted in his seat, he felt that low burn inside of him. He couldn't help but feel as though the burn inside was more than just soreness from their activities. Harry imagined that anyone he had been, well, intimate with, he would feel at least a small degree of emotional attachment.

How unfortunate for him to experience that attachment to Severus Snape.

"Did you hear about Remus and Tonks? I'm so excited that they're going to have a baby!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yeah," Ron said. "I just hope he thought all of it through, what with You-Know-Who and all."

"Oh, he definitely did. I think he was a little uneasy at first, but a baby really does help make people feel better, right?" Neville asked.

"Do you think Voldemort could come into Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, stretching across the couch onto Ron's lap.

"If anyone could do it, it would probably be him, right mate?" Ron answered, looking over at Harry.

Right. Voldemort. Something consistent. Something he could talk about without getting flustered or shy. He shrugged. "Remember Dumbledore is still here. As long as we have Dumbledore, we'll be fine."

Neville frowned. "Well you even said something about Dumbledore this summer, didn't you Harry? That he isn't as strong as he used to be, right?"

His friends all looked at him expectantly. "Well, yeah, especially after the battle in the Ministry our fifth year. He moves a lot more slowly. Remember last year when he took a sick day? That was after the attack on St. Mungo's."

"All of those people…" Hermione trailed off.

"Yes, well, we were able to save a lot of them, thanks to you and Dumbledore," Ron said, patting his girlfriend on the back.

After their sixth year, Dumbledore had given permission for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to join the Order of the Phoenix. With the exception of Harry by just over a month, they were of age and nothing held them back from pledging loyalty to the secret organization. Several other select students – Neville, Luna, and Ginny – were unofficially members and attended meetings as regulars.

Voldemort had attacked St. Mungo's just weeks after Harry had joined. Twelve patients and two Healers were killed. It was a radical blood purity raid, as everyone who had died was Muggleborn. Luckily, Snape had intercepted some information regarding the attack and Hermione decoded the message in time to save the whole place from going up in flames. Unfortunately, Snape had been found out as a spy and was kept under strict safekeeping at Hogwarts.

Harry stifled a groan as he realized he would have to see Snape at the weekly Order meetings. Would Snape just ignore him? Would he torment him?

"Well, it isn't like it matters whether or not Dumbledore is up to his full strength. He isn't the one who has to kill him," Harry added glumly.

"So, who's ready for Quidditch?" Ginny asked brightly, plopping in between Harry and Neville. Glancing around and noticing the group's somber tone, she asked, "What were you lot talking about before I got here?"

"Dumbledore," Hermione answered. "You know, how he hasn't really been as strong as he used to be."

Ginny nodded and slipped her fingers between Harry's. He felt a pang as she squeezed his hand. Would she notice anything different about him? Was there an obvious difference to him? He knew that if he looked as different as he felt, Ginny would definitely notice something.

He leaned into her and breathed in her scent. She smelled like vanilla, his favorite. How could he have possibly done this to her? No. He didn't do anything, he said to himself. Snape did this.

"I personally am excited for Quidditch!" Ron said after a few moments of silence. "Are you making us all try out again?"

Harry was grateful for the change of topic. "Yeah, it wouldn't be fair to others. You know you're the best Keeper in Gryffindor, so it's really more of a formality. Just like last year."

"I did beat Cormac McLaggen pretty well, didn't I?" Ron declared with a proud grin.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a brief grin, and with a kiss on his cheek, Hermione responded, "You did wonderfully."

"You'll be a shoo-in," Harry agreed. "As will Ginny."

Ginny grinned. "I don't know, a lot of girls want to be Chasers for the great Harry Potter."

The great Harry Potter. Harry winced, thinking about his encounter with Snape. Brilliant. Five minutes of not thinking about the greasy git.

"Harry?" Hermione asked. "You sure that blast didn't affect your brain? Or whatever else was in the cauldron?"

"What?" he asked.

"The blast from the cauldron you were supposed to be cleaning. It could have had some residue that you breathed in. Your attention span has been less than impressive tonight."

"Wait, what?" Ginny asked, shocked.

"Snape blew up a cauldron in his face during his detention," Neville explained.

Harry just stared. What Hermione said made a lot of sense. What if he had just hallucinated the whole thing? What if this had just been something from his imagination? Of course, this raises the question: why would he possibly imagine being fucked by Snape?

Disappointed, he knew the answer. This had had to be real. Wishful thinking would get him nowhere.

But where did he actually want to go? It was obvious that neither he nor Snape would want to continue this. There was no benefit for either of them.

Minus the exceptional, mind-blowing sex, an obnoxious voice in his head nagged. Harry choice to ignore it and noticed that Ginny, Neville, Ron, and Hermione were staring at him.

"I'm fine. I think Snape just wanted to frighten me tonight. I doubt the cauldron was even dirty," Harry explained.

"You should go to Madam Pomfrey anyway, Harry. You have a bruise," Ginny said, motioning to Harry's left arm.

He instinctively covered it up with his other hand. Clearly, no one in this group had ever been grabbed roughly before. He recognized the finger marks like ones he had received from the Dursleys before. However, he had enjoyed these squeeze marks. Now, though, they were marks of shame. "Right. I should get some healing salve for that. It's late, so I'm just going to wait until morning. It doesn't really hurt, so there's no use in bothering Pomfrey tonight, right?"

Harry was again reminded at how terrible he was at lying. There should be an award for how bad he was.

He had never had to keep anything from his friends. Really, there was just the prophecy that one time his fifth year, and the secret about Neville's parents for a short while. Other than that, he had always been honest with Ron and Hermione, and now, Ginny. And this was far bigger a deal than those other secrets. Those he kept out of respect for Dumbledore, out of respect for his possible future. This, this was just insane.

He knew he could never tell any of them what had happened. First off, they wouldn't understand, and secondly, it would only be to make himself feel better. He didn't deserve to feel better. He didn't deserve to have any form of peace for the rest of his life.

"Have you finished with Transfiguration?" Harry asked, changing the subject. "I'm still having trouble with it."

"Yeah, Ron and I were just working on it," Hermione answered, pulling out her books.

This would be a rough year indeed.


	4. Potions Class

**Chapter 4: Potions Class**

As Harry and Ginny made their way down to breakfast the next day, they passed Malfoy on the stairs. They exchanged brief but significant glances with him and continued to walk.

Malfoy and his mother had offered up five Death Eaters' locations as a trade for their and Lucius' safety. Because of this, they were unable to stay at Malfoy Manor; the Order of the Phoenix moved them to Grimmauld Place over the summer, which they were able to maintain as Order Headquarters after several new protection spells. The first few weeks had been rough for Malfoy. His mother, happily reunited with her sister Andromeda, had little time to spend with her son. He had first continued his verbal abuse of Harry and the Weasleys, but after he got bored (or realized he was significantly outnumbered), a truce formed. In fact, he had even tried to help Harry and Ron clean out an old trunk at the end of the summer. Despite the fact that he was furious that the dust had ruined his cashmere jumper, Harry and Ron decided that it was the thought that really counted.

Since they had come back to school though, Malfoy had essentially ignored them. He had given Ron an extra salamander root during Potions and asked Harry how he was one day in the hallway, so that was something at least.

Ginny still didn't like Malfoy. Ever since her first year, when he had publicly humiliated her about her singing Valentine-gram, she had vowed never to forgive him. Despite this, she was still glad he was now supporting the Order – or at least trying to stop Voldemort.

"Do you think he's trying to convince his Slytherin friends to go against You-Know-Who?" Ron asked when they reached the bottom step.

"Who knows? Lavender told me Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle were the only ones involved with Voldemort anymore. Most of the other Slytherins were really upset when he killed that Pureblood last year," Hermione responded.

"Just like the first war, right?" Harry asked furiously. "The man is a good influence, a great public figure and should be revered – until, of course, they realize he's nuts and just wants to rule the world himself?"

Ginny nodded. "It's better to have more people against him than to have them on his side, though. It doesn't matter how they changed their minds."

"It does to me," Harry said bitterly.

Ginny grinned. "Don't be such a Gryffindor."

They took their usual seats at their table in the Great Hall. Taking some hot porridge and orange juice, Harry glanced at the Staff Table curiously.

There he sat, as proud and as big a git as ever. Snape. It was obvious he was intentionally looking away from the Gryffindor table, instead focusing only on his toast and jam. Sensing someone was watching him, he glanced upward and straight at Harry.

Turning red, he avoided Snape's gaze and stared at his pumpkin juice, whose pulp was sinking to the bottom. He put an arm around Ginny, gave a quick glance at Snape again, and continued eating. Potions was going to be very difficult today. Seeing Snape made him think of all of those kisses they shared, the way he pushed him up against the wall. He could only imagine what it would be like to hear the man, to listen to that silky voice whisper in his ear.

"Good oatmeal today?" Ron asked, eyeing Harry warily. "You look like you want to shag it."

"What? Oh, yeah, it's good," he responded, taking a bite.

"Were you going to see Madam Pomfrey today? You still seem kind of out of it from yesterday's detention," Ginny commented.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose I could. I really don't want to tell any teachers about it, you know? It's embarrassing and Snape will probably just treat me worse."

"Well, he would be punished at least," Hermione piped up.

"Would he really though? He was found out as a traitor to the Death Eaters this past summer, so it isn't as though he has anywhere to go," Harry answered.

"There is that," Hermione responded.

"It sucks, I know," Harry said. "But we will just have to get our own form of revenge."

"Let's spill tea on his favorite Potions book!" Ron exclaimed. A raised eyebrow from Ginny and a death glare from Hermione was enough to shut him up.

"I'm sure we'll think of something," Harry said, gulping down his orange juice.

"Well, it is our first class this morning," Hermione said. "We should probably start heading down there now. You know what he's like when we're late."

"A monster. Same as always," Harry muttered as he finished his oatmeal and stood up, ready to face the day.

* * *

"This potion is extremely delicate. Even breathing on it – yes, that means you, Longbottom – will affect the outcome of the potion."

"But sir, how is this different from Veritaserum?" Hermione asked. "The ingredients are essentially the same."

"Granger, despite her book recitation skills to the point of annoyance, brings up a valid point," Snape said, his voice filled with disdain. "This potion not only is, in theory, stronger, but it forces the drinker to tell the truth."

Blaise Zabini raised his hand. "How is it different from Veritaserum, then?"

Snape shook his head with impatience. "Veritaserum makes it so you cannot lie. Veritapotio makes it so the drinker _has_ to tell the truth. You can refuse to say anything while under the influence of Veritaserum, even use Occlumency against it. You could also take drastic steps to avoid giving away the truth with Veritaserum, such as cut off your tongue or seal off your throat. With this, you cannot. In theory, this should be able to extract the absolute truth from the drinker, and will get that truth out in any way possible." Snape stopped and looked around at the class, who were hanging on every word. "Now, the most important thing you need to know about this potion is that it has not been perfected, nor approved by the board. The ingredients have been given to you as a means to begin. This is a research assignment for this class and only this class. Any NEWT student to perfect this will surely be published."

Hermione looked anxious, nearly about to fall out of her chair. A NEWT student getting published would do wonders for their chances at getting into universities or apprenticeships. Even Harry sat up a little straighter.

Snape scoffed at the excited look on everyone's faces in the room. "Don't be foolish. Only someone with true Potions talent could do this." He sneered, glancing over at Malfoy with what was close to an encouraging smile. "I have here all of my notes on the potion. Before you look at this research and before you even start chopping salamander root, you must sign this confidentiality agreement, stating that you will not discuss this potion with any other person not in this class. This is a potion I have long been working on and I will not have my researched bollixed up by a group of seventeen-year-olds. You may begin."

"Is it just me or does Snape seem to be in a better mood today?" Ron asked.

"I know, he practically told us to help him with a potion he's researching," Hermione added. "Maybe he's looking for an apprentice next year?"

"Yeah, because our plan sure hasn't gone through yet," Ron whispered. "He didn't fuck anyone last night."

Harry dropped a vial in surprise. He watched as it fell in slow motion. Upon hitting the ground, little crystal shards bounced back up, reflecting the light from the torches. Harry dared the glance across the room at Snape, a smirk slowly growing from his eyes down to his lips. Silence blanketed the room.

"Clearly, if Mr. Potter can't even hold a vial properly, what good would he be at producing a non-lethal potion?" Snape asked coolly.

They stared at each other for what seemed like ages. Harry allowed himself to replay everything that had happened in this very room the night before. That unabashed fury, the gentle words, that very talented tongue. All still there, yet now it was completely different. Snape had obviously just wanted a fuck, something to relieve him from the everyday stress that had become his life.

Harry knew he was significantly more bothered by this than he wanted to admit to himself. Yet, it didn't matter. This verbal (yet very non-verbal) exchange said all that needed to be said. It was over. Hell, there wasn't even an "it" to be over. There wasn't anything anymore.

Not as though Harry cared. As he had thought before, he knew there was bound to be some form of emotional attachment to his first. It didn't seem fair that it had to be a one-off with Snape, but life was life. Harry never had been one to be lucky. What did matter was that he could move on with his life. So what if it felt as if he had just been hit in the stomach with a brick?

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, "I'll clean it up."

"You will. And then you will clean up every brewing station in this classroom after class is over," Snape answered.

"For breaking an empty vial?" Harry asked, annoyed. So what if the man had made him come twice last night, this was bloody unfair!

"You could just come in and do more cleaning work for me," Snape suggested, an evil glint in his eye. Harry froze. "I have plenty more dirty cauldrons that need scrubbing."

Harry was unsure if that was a threat or subtle innuendo. Judging by the look on everyone else's faces, they assumed that it was the former. He was silent, unsure of what to say as a response.

"Right, because the great Harry Potter would hate to do any real work," Snape drawled. "What then would he use his fame for?"

Harry bit the inside of his lip. Ignoring Snape and the rest of the class's stares, he repaired the vial and began chopping his frog spleen, his fingers trembling.

"What, no angry Gryffindor retort?" Snape asked with malice. "Whatever must I have done last night to silence the Chosen One?"

Harry felt a white hot flash of fury flood his body. "SHUT UP!" he cried. Grabbing his bag, he tore out of the dungeon, crashing into several people in the process. He was so distracted, he didn't even notice whom he had crashed into.

As he made his way to his favorite spot by the lake, thoughts were swarming his mind. How could he have said that? Not only had he just been a random fuck, but Snape had used last night to ridicule him in front of the whole class. Of course, no one but he had known what it was really about – but the fact that Snape was lording over him the things they had done, the things he had done to Harry, was just humiliating.

He plopped under the great oak by the west side of the lake. Trying to control his breathing, Harry put his head in between his knees. He felt the dewy blades of grass between his fingers and stroked them gently. It was hard to believe that just yesterday he had been thinking about Quidditch, even wondering what he would be eating at the Halloween Feast in the coming weeks.

It really didn't seem to matter now. Snape had consumed his mind, taken over his every thought.

They weren't even good thoughts, like a silly school boy in love. No, these were thoughts of shame, of embarrassment, and the question of why. Why had Snape done that last night? He was owed an explanation, dammit.

Harry picked his head up and leaned against the tree. He felt the tree's bark with his face and focused on the transition from smooth to rough, where the bark was peeling. The scratching across his cheek gave him a feeling of relaxation, something he had not felt in over fifteen hours.

But he had pulled Snape back, a voice in his head told him. He had wanted it just as much as Snape had.

Did Snape really, though? Hell, had _he_ really wanted it? Looking back in hindsight, it just sort of seemed like the right thing to do. It was already obvious Snape didn't give a flying fuck about it, that maybe the explosion had clouded their sense of judgment. No, there hadn't been anything in the air, like remnants from a potion, but perhaps the adrenaline produced from the cauldron bursting into hundreds of pieces had affected them.

Stop this! Harry told himself. He needed to stop thinking about all of the reasons why this happened. It did; there was no one to blame but himself. Well, and Snape. No excuses. It happened, and no amount of moping would undo it.

"Hey, Harry," a voice said behind him.

"Hey, Hermione."

"I figured you'd be here," she said softly, sitting down beside him. "Snape upset you pretty badly, yeah? Would you like to talk about it?"

Harry sighed. "I just hate how he knows he can just get away with this. It just isn't right. And then he rubs it in my face in front of the whole class!" he exclaimed.

"Harry, is there something you're not telling us?" Hermione asked, looking into his eyes.

"Of course not," Harry said dismissively, shaking his head.

"Did he say something to you last night? Harry, did he threaten you?"

"It's nothing, Hermione. Snape is just a cruel git who seriously needs to get laid."

"You've never stormed out of a class before, Harry," Hermione said in a soft voice, looking worried.

"_You_ have," Harry retorted with his eyebrows raised.

"That's beside the point," she said, her lips pursed. "Trelawney told me I was a failure as a Divination student. That was under a very special circumstance. Plus, what does that prove but my point?" she asked. "I was emotionally affected by what she said to me."

"You've clearly never had a cauldron blown up in your face, have you?" Harry asked in a low voice. "Snape has tried to poison me with my own potions before, but never actually went through with it. He actually put me in mortal danger. And he's laughing about it, making fun of me for trying not to provoke him anymore."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. "I get it, Harry," she finally said.

"And stop saying my name like that!" he whined, pushing her.

"Like what?" she asked, giving him a little shove back.

"Like you feel bad for me, like I'm your counseling patient and not your best friend."

"Am I, _Harry_?" Hermione asked in a very professional tone. "Would you like to tell me more about it, _Harry_?" she asked, trying to hide her smile.

Both of them burst out laughing. Harry was glad he had found a friend as good as Hermione; she was kind and understanding. Harry wished he could tell her what had happened, but he knew she would be very upset. Very upset was an understatement. She would be furious, at him and Snape. No, he might be able to tell her that he might be gay, but no luck at sharing his activities last night. She wouldn't understand and would completely disapprove of his inappropriate relations with his professor. He couldn't bring himself to tell her what happened the night before. It would have to stay with him until the day he died.

"Come on, let's go back inside. I can tell you all about what you missed in Potions."

"Oh, do tell. You know I love hearing about that class," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes as he stood up and extended his hand to help Hermione off the ground.

She took his hand and pulled herself up. "I hate saying this, but it was really good. When it became apparent that no one in the room could brew anything close to Veritapotio, Professor Snape decided to assign us research homework." Harry groaned. "No, it's actual work! Like, the work we would be expected to do if we worked in the Potions field!"

"I guess that is interesting," Harry begrudgingly admitted.

"It is! This is a real project in which Professor Snape might actually treat us closer to equals than he normally does."

"So, like, people then? Maybe students?"

"Very funny. Really, though, this is just another sign that we are adults now, getting ready to work and start our lives."

"You know I have to kill Voldemort first," Harry pointed out.

"That's not true. You managed to make it three years through school since he's been back and have you not done well in school?"

"Well, the 'O' in Potions was impressive, wasn't it?" Harry asked proudly.

As they walked across the grounds, Harry saw Terry Boot walking toward them. Terry, as far as Harry knew, was the only gay student in their year, possibly the entire school. Terry was a great bloke though, never making anyone feel uncomfortable. He was just another Hogwarts student, a kind boy who most students (and all of the teachers) liked. He wasn't too bad on the eyes either, with his straight, sweeping blond hair he brushed above one eye and big hazel eyes that seemed to sparkle whenever he heard about a new spell (much like Hermione). Terry's smile seemed to light up the entire room. He was well-shaped, despite the amount of time he spent in the library instead of the Quidditch pitch. Harry could see a rippling of muscles up and down his arms, surely leading down his body through his legs. Yep, Terry Boot was the poster wizard for why being gay was bloody brilliant.

"Hey, Hermione. Hey, Harry," Terry said with a smile. "Harry, what was all that about in Potions today?"

"Bad detention last night," Harry responded. "Snape's a git."

"What else is new? Hey, Seamus mentioned that you were trying to get Snape to 'get some' with Selhorn. What was that all about?"

"Bloody hell, does everyone know about it?" Harry asked in exasperation. "Yeah, we figured if Snape could, you know, get shagged, he might be in a better mood when he teaches us."

"And then maybe he'll help me find the winning ingredients to perfect his Truth Potion," Harry said, his eyes sparkling at Hermione.

She took the bait. "Pity you need help from Snape. _Some_ of us will find the answer all by ourselves," she answered smugly.

"Touché. Well, keep me updated on the plan. I'll help any way you want me to," Terry replied and walked away, joining one of his fellow Ravenclaws back inside from the courtyard.

"I've always liked, Terry," Hermione commented.

"That's just because he was impressed with you our fifth year in the DA, that you had done a Protean Charm."

"Regardless of the situation, he is still someone I would like to know more."

Harry nodded. "Me too. It must be hard for him, though, being the only gay wizard in the school."

She shook her head. "He's dating a Hufflepuff fifth year, so he can't be the only one in the school."

"Oh. I s'pose I never paid attention to it."

"Of course you haven't. He isn't Quidditch competition or a pretty girl. You don't pay attention to anyone else." Hermione huffed as they sat down with Ron at the usual spot in the courtyard.

"Hey mate, you feeling better?" Ron asked.

"Much better. I just needed to cool off a bit. I wish I could do an independent study in Potions so I wouldn't have to see that bastard."

"Bloody good luck to you, then. I am interested in this project, though. Even though it's Potions, doing something that isn't writing an essay or copying things out of a book is a nice change of pace," Ron answered.

"Wow, even you, Ron?" Harry asked in shock. Last year, Ron hated Potions even more than his previous five years together. The only reason he stayed in the class was because he needed it to be an Auror. Harry remembered countless nights of staying up and working with him to pass Snape's class.

"Well, it is kind of interesting. You have to admit it's interesting, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Harry said, pouting.

"Off to the library?" Hermione asked brightly. Groaning, Ron and Harry set off after her.

* * *

A group of Order members had gathered around Dumbledore's office. "What have you learned?" Dumbledore asked.

"Based on the wizards Voldemort has been capturing, we think he is trying to build some sort of weapon, a weapon that would help him capture the Ministry quickly," Tonks reported.

"The Death Eaters we caught weren't much use," Moody said, cursing.

"What kind of weapon?" Harry asked, looking at his hands. He did not want to go to this meeting, as Snape was there, leering at him with his usual smirk intact.

"Based on our other sources, we believe that he is trying to create some sort of mass Imperius Curse, something that will disable the Ministry until it is too late to stop them," Dumbledore explained.

"How can we stop them?" Harry asked. "There must be a way."

"That is what we're here to do, Potter," Snape interrupted with a scowl. "Now if you're finished asking asinine questions, we have work to do."

Harry sat back in a huff. He wasn't going to provoke Snape. Merlin only knew what he had planned next.


	5. I Think I'm Gay

**Chapter 5: I Think I'm Gay**

Two weeks later, Harry was still skiving off Potions class. While Snape hadn't said anything about it, he could feel the stare of those dark eyes during meals and in the corridor. He continued to ignore it. Harry refused to participate in any more of Snape's games.

Research for the new potion turned out to be quite interesting. Despite his lack of appearance in class, Harry had been reading up on the Truth Potion. The entire NEWT Potions class was in a tizzy, each of them fighting to solve the problems with the potion first. Most of the students had figured out a way to isolate the porcupine quills, which they believed was what caused the ability for the drinker to make a lie of omission.

Harry had taken a leaf out of Hermione's book and had begun reading up on the history of Veritaserum in his free time: who had invented it, previous variations, the creation process, etc. He had learned that the Veritapotio was what the original creators had intended to make, but Veritaserum was the closest (and safest) they were able to achieve.

Even though it had still been only two weeks since the detention from hell, Harry was beginning to regard it either as a terrible dream or an interesting nightmare. The one thing he couldn't seem to shake was that he was definitely attracted to boys. This created a rather unfortunate predicament for him and his relationship with Ginny. It seemed as though she had noticed nothing, so for the moment, he had decided to keep his sexuality to himself. Soon, once he knew for sure, he would break it off and make the announcement.

He and his group of Gryffindors (and somehow along with Terry Boot) had been working to go through with their "Get Snape Laid" or "Operation Happy", as Ron liked to call it. They had their Extendable Ears in place, seven exact possible conversations Hermione could have with Selhorn, and subtle, subliminal messages to both Selhorn and Snape to attract each other. One message included sneaking into the kitchens and serving Selhorn a cup of ice cream. All of the boys had noticed how she treated mashed potatoes; they eagerly awaited as to what she might do with vanilla ice cream.

They had chosen Halloween night to execute the plan. Hermione and Terry had calculated their chances of success around 33%. Low but not impossible.

Everyone was in place. The Extendable Ears were placed just outside the door. Hermione was wearing a baby blue jumper (said to be a calming, more trustworthy color than scarlet or gold), and the first subliminal message to Snape had already been sent. He had confiscated a note Seamus and Ron had been passing, drawing a visual representation of Selhorn's breasts. There were many points lost and detentions gained, but it had been worth it when an inquisitive eye passed over the open note while Snape had been sitting at his desk.

"Ready, Hermione?" Seamus asked.

"Ready." She gulped. "Remind me why Ginny isn't doing this again?"

"She's been known to hate Weasleys. While you're dating one, you have still got a better chance than me," Ginny piped up.

"Plus, you're older and more mature than she is," Ron added. Ginny made an immature hand gesture and they looked back at Hermione.

"Okay, here goes nothing."

They heard Hermione close the door behind her. "Professor?"

"Oh, hello, Granger. Is there something you need?" Selhorn's smooth voice asked. Harry could easily picture her sitting at her desk, perhaps looking over some lesson plans. He imagined her long, dark hair covering the back of her chair as her soft, milky white hands held the plans, her black-rimmed reading glasses falling down the bridge of her long, thin nose.

"I was wondering if I could speak with you," Hermione asked, biting her bottom lip and with just the right amount of forcefulness she had practiced for hours.

"Of course. Is this about your nonverbal Dark Magic essay? I can't give you that point, as you clearly confused lycanstis with lunarithsia."

Hermione sighed. "I understand why you gave me that grade. However, I will say that Numbelburg's text was very vague about those details. No, it's not about your class. It's…kind of personal."

Selhorn paused. "Surely, your Head of House is more qualified to deal with personal matters."

"Well, yes, but I just feel kind of strange talking to someone so old about that kind of stuff! I think I need to talk to someone younger, someone who might be able to relate more to what I'm going through."

Harry glanced at Seamus and grinned. He had been mouthing Hermione's words. As it turned out, Seamus had a bit of a gift for writing.

"Well, Granger, I'm flattered you chose me. What can I help you with?" Selhorn sounded sincere, which was a good sign. Harry knew which conversation track she was going to use. Successful or not, it was at least going to be entertaining.

"It's about Ron. You know we're dating, right?"

"Granger, I think the entire nation of Britain knows you're together," Selhorn said dryly.

Hermione giggled. "I didn't realize we were that obvious. Anyway, I'm having trouble getting him to open up. It never used to be a problem, but since we've been together, he doesn't talk about his feelings anymore. It's as if now that we're physically intimate, he doesn't want to be emotionally intimate. I tell him everything, things that no one else knows about me!"

Selhorn sighed. "Men are fools. Er – I have to ask this, as a professor – when you say 'physically intimate' do you mean – "

"Oh, heavens no!" Hermione said quickly. 'That won't be at least for another month!"

Harry heard a thunk next to him and noticed Ron had fallen on the ground. He scrambled back up, adjusting his Extendable Ear as his own ears turned beet red.

"Right, well, I just needed to make sure you are being safe and responsible," she said awkwardly. "As for your problem with – Mr. Weasley – maybe you should bring it up to him. Men are idiots sometimes, and do things without even noticing it. He probably doesn't even realize there is a problem."

"But what if he does?" Hermione asked. Harry was sure that her eyes had widened like bowls, as they had in the practice sessions.

"Ask him questions," she suggested. "You said you tell him everything about yourself, right?"

"Right," Hermione nodded.

"Well, maybe instead of sharing so much about yourself, you could give him a chance to share something with you."

Hermione nodded again. "Of course, it makes perfect sense now. Maybe I've been over sharing to compensate for the fact that things are different, that I'm now his girlfriend instead of his best friend."

"There you have it," Selhorn said. "Anything else?"

Here it was. The moment of truth. Come on Hermione, Harry thought.

"No, I'm great! I just _knew_ you would give good advice about this kind of stuff."

'What makes you think that?" Selhorn asked, walking straight into Hermione's trap.

"Well, we're both dating men who have trouble sharing their emotions. They're both a little different than the average man."

"I'm not – who do you think I'm dating?" Selhorn demanded. Harry imagined her leaning forward with her hands perched on her desk, mouth wide open.

"Professor Snape, of course, who else?" Hermione said good-naturedly. After looking at Selhorn's confused expression, she added, "Not Professor Snape?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" the professor asked incredulously.

"I just see the looks you two give each other. I guess we all just assumed – "

"We? There's a _we_ who think that Severus and I are dating?"

"Of course there is! We see you two together all the time! You're both younger than the rest of the staff, you both are strict with your classes, you both love the color black. Plus, what kind of girl _hasn't_ thought about Professor Snape in that way?"

"Hold on just a second! Severus is nearly ten years older than I am! Mentally, the man is more like fifty! And what do you mean, 'in that way'?"

Harry could hear the grin in Hermione's voice. Seamus used inspiration from their very first conversation about this topic to lead up to the biggest part of the conversation. This was where she planted the seed. This was the most sensitive part of Operation Happy. "You know, in a sexual way. That kind of cold, domineering fantasy every girl has. I have read various Muggle psychology books that state all women have a special place in their hearts for a 'bad boy'."

Selhorn snorted. "Did I just hear Hermione Granger say, 'bad boy'?"

"You know what I mean, Professor. Professor Snape, after a long, hot shower, is a rather fit bloke."

Harry was briefly taken to a place in which he was in that long, hot shower with Snape. He sighed against the wall. Sensing Neville's eyes trained on him, he quickly snapped out of it and turned to pay attention to the conversation at hand.

"You're telling me you and Professor Snape have never – "

"Of course we've never dated! That's highly unprofessional!"

"But you've thought about it?"

Selhorn paused. Harry imagined she was sizing Hermione up, trying to figure out what to say without losing her professionalism. "Yes, I've thought about it," she finally breathed out.

A look of shock registered amongst the faces of everyone outside the door. Surely, even Terry hadn't accounted for the fact that Selhorn might have been nursing her own crush on Snape before this! Operation Happy was looking like it could be a lot more successful than anyone had originally anticipated.

Even Hermione seemed a bit surprised. "Well, it's obvious he's interested in you!"

"Hey," Selhorn warned, "who is the one giving the advice here?"

"Sorry. Well, if that is all…thank you for the advice!"

"Hermione…this conversation…it – "

"It never happened," Hermione quickly responded. "I know I may be overstepping my boundaries, but you should go for it! Maybe then at least there might be two happy professors at that table. I imagine it can get lonely sometimes."

Hermione must have been feeling very good about this conversation. They had decided to use that line only if it was basically a done deal.

"Right. I'll keep that in mind. Erm – good luck with Weasley."

As Hermione turned to leave, the boys and Ginny pulled their Extendable Ears out and ran quickly down the corridor, where they began to practice several advanced conjuration spells. When they saw Hermione come out from Selhorn's office and head toward them, they began to cheer.

"That was some juicy girl talk!" Ginny squealed.

"Ugh, I can't believe anyone would fantasize about Snape like that," Ron said. "Just thinking about him in the shower made me feel sick."

Harry shuddered, thinking about what Snape in a shower did to him.

"Well, it got the job done, didn't it?" she asked.

"Now, all we have to do is wait," Terry said, then glanced at his watch. Jumping up, he said, "Oh no. I was supposed to meet up with Matthew five minutes ago! Sorry, I have to go. I'll see you around?" he asked.

Harry smiled. "Of course! You won't be able to stay away! You're going to have to find out if Selhorn is going to go after Snape!"

"But of course!" Terry replied and began jogging down the stairs.

The rest of the group also started walking. "You think that she really will try and woo Snape?" Neville asked.

"Neville, I may not be a girl involved in a lot of drama, but I can tell you one thing: Selhorn had that look of desperation, that glint in her eye that meant she wanted him. She may have admitted a fantasy with her words, but she spoke volumes of lust with her eyes," Hermione replied, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Jeez, Hermione! I've never heard you talk like that!" cried Seamus.

"It almost sounds Slytherin," Harry added.

"It was a very Slytherin thing we did," Ginny pointed out. "We manipulated someone to get a desired outcome."

"Yes, but it's for the greater good. A more pleasant Selhorn and Snape will benefit all students!" Ron defended himself.

"You just don't want to be compared to a Slytherin," Ginny responded, deliberately provoking her brother.

"Damn right," Ron said smugly. "Scum of the earth." Ginny rolled her eyes and made a face.

Ginny retaliated with a nasty remark that Harry didn't listen to. He thought about how he had not noticed how much Ginny and Ron had bickered until she had started spending time with them, effectively joining their group. Sure, he knew they fought every once and a while during the summer, and sure, they would have heated exchanges at Hogwarts, but now that they were constantly spending time with each other, all of this fighting was starting to get on Harry's nerves. With both Harry and Hermione as only children, neither of them understood the elements of sibling rivalry.

"So, what now? We have a few hours until the feast," Seamus interrupted the fight, which was looking as though wands were preparing to be drawn and used.

"I have homework. Even though Selhorn made fun of me about that essay, there was a ring of truth to it," Hermione announced. "I was going to go over my Charms essay if anyone wanted to tag along."

Neville nodded. "I could use all of the help I can get."

Ron, Hermione, and Neville set off for the library. Seamus looked expectantly at Ginny and Harry.

"I think we're going to spend some time in Harry's room," Ginny said, attempting to be casual as she wrapped her arm around Harry's.

Seamus sighed. "Really? Try and be less obvious next time. I guess I'll go find Dean. He's my only bloody drinking partner."

"Tonight!" Harry called. "After the feast, I'll drink with you!"

It wasn't as though he stood a chance against Seamus, Harry thought as he and Ginny climbed the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower. Seamus' Irish blood would drink him under the table.

Once he and Ginny reached his bed, Ginny threw her arms around him and pushed him onto the mattress. Pressing her lips against his, she ran her hands up and down Harry's cheeks.

Pulling away after a few seconds, she looked down at him and whispered, "I'm ready."

Harry blinked. "Ready for what?"

Ginny gave him a look of confusion. "I would like to have sex tonight. Now."

"_Now_? Gin, where did this come from?" he asked, sitting up quickly. Ginny got off him and sat down next to him instead.

"I don't know, just listening to Hermione and Professor Selhorn talking…I guess I just realized how much I love you and that I want you to be my first. And that I want that time to be now."

Harry was speechless. Here she was, a beautiful girl, the best girlfriend anyone could ever ask for, offering herself to him, and here he was, unable to form words? What was wrong with him?

You are gay, a voice yelled in his ear. No matter how much he wanted to deny his experience with Snape, they had opened him up to a new world, to who he truly was.

"Well? What do you think?" she asked, giving him a sly smile.

"Ginny, I want to. Don't get me wrong. You're amazing, and I love you so much."

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, pulling away a bit more.

"I have something to tell you. I don't want you to be angry about it and I don't want you to think that our relationship doesn't mean – I haven't told anyone yet, so I'm still –"

"Spit it out already!" she said, her face hardening.

"Ginny, I think I'm gay."


	6. An Unexpected Encounter

**Chapter 6: An Unexpected Encounter**

"You're what?" Ginny asked, tilting her head to the right.

"I think that I am attracted to other men," Harry said slowly, wincing.

Ginny sat up straighter and gave a little huff. "When did you figure this out?"

"I think I realized it last week, and I've been doing a lot of thinking. I'm pretty positive I'm gay."

"Harry James Potter, if this is some prank you're trying to pull, I'll have your head."

"No, Gin, it isn't a joke."

"But you've never been with a man, have you?" Ginny asked.

Okay, he actually had to lie here. "Erm, no. I'm just more attracted to men than – "

"-me," Ginny finished for him. Harry looked into her face. There was clearly pain and a bit of anger in there as well. However, she seemed more concerned, more motherly than anything.

"Gin, it's not like that. You know I love you."

"It's just that you'd rather I have a penis?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know. You're the first person I told. I couldn't sleep with you when I've been having these feelings."

"No, I should be grateful for that, right?" There was both sarcasm and honesty in her tone of voice.

"I'm not ready for anyone to know about me yet," Harry started to say.

"You want me to be your beard?" Ginny asked with venom in her voice.

"No! Nothing like that! I want us to be friends, but I don't want everyone knowing why. I especially don't want the _Daily Prophet_ having their fun with this. It needs to be on my terms."

"And you are sure that you're gay?" Ginny asked, desperation obvious in her voice. "We could just pretend that this conversation never happened…that we are who we were five minutes ago, two people…together."

"You know that's not going to happen. I'm telling you this now so you won't be hurt later."

"Yes, Harry, but I'm hurt now," Ginny said, tears in her eyes.

"You know I didn't want it to be like this, right? I thought we would – "

"Out of the blue, you just realized you were gay?"

"Yes," Harry said. "Look, I know it's a lot to sink in. But wouldn't you rather know?"

"I'd rather it not be true at all," Ginny said, sadness in her voice.

"I'm so sorry that I've hurt you," Harry said and took her hand. Ginny wrapped her arms around him, her fingers squeezing his back. Harry winced at the pinch, but he knew he deserved it.

He could feel Ginny trembling, fighting back her tears. As terrible as he felt about hurting her, Harry couldn't help but be relieved. He had finally told someone something about some of the emotions he'd been having. Hopefully, one day she would forgive him and they could be friends again.

Ginny finally pulled away. "You know, I'm not angry with you," she said. "I'm sad, and I _am_ angry, but not at you. I am glad that you told me and I'm glad you trust me enough to share your secret."

Harry nodded. "I'm happy that you understand."

"I wouldn't go that far. What caused you to realize you were gay?"

Harry stopped and thought. He decided to relay a dream to her he had about Snape but change the name. "It was kind of a mixture of some dreams and noticing the world around me. A few weeks ago, I dreamed that – that Terry Boot was walking down a corridor with me. We were in this big building with marble floors and yellow, painted walls. He kept telling me that I needed to turn around and see the truth. I didn't want to, but when I finally did, there was a mirror directly behind me. Instead of my reflection looking back, it was the two of us kissing. Naked. I tried to knock the mirror over, but it wouldn't budge. Terry kept saying, 'Don't you see? Can you see it now?' When I woke up, I did see. I woke up feeling different, like something that had been inside me all of this time was just obvious. I fancy blokes not girls."

Ginny sat in silence for a while. She finally spoke up. "Terry Boot opened your eyes to your inner-homosexual?"

Harry chuckled. "You could say that, I suppose."

Clearly, trying to go with the light conversation, Ginny said, "Well, I guess now I have a gay friend to shop with and give me boy advice. Unfortunately, it seems as though I have more boy experience than you do!"

"Maybe you'll give me advice then," Harry suggested hopefully.

"Well, I don't think I'll be going after any boy for a little while. Even though I've accepted this doesn't mean that I'm okay."

Harry nodded. "I understand that."

A Tempus Charm revealed that they were nearly late for the Halloween Feast. Running together, despite the tension, Harry knew his and Ginny's friendship was going to survive.

* * *

A month had passed and Harry had not yet revealed his sexuality to his friends. He and Ginny had announced that they had broken up but skirted over reasons why and left it with, "It was mutual."

Ron had been depressed but took the news better than Harry had anticipated. Hermione was a supportive friend to both of them, offering a shoulder to cry on to whoever needed it. Neville had already been making mooneyes at Ginny but had yet to make a move.  
_  
The Daily Prophet_ found out about the split not even a day after it had happened. Articles had run nearly every day for two weeks, updating the wizarding world about Harry's heart woes. Soon enough, after Harry and his friends refused to be interviewed or even comment about their breakup, they stopped. However, Harry had been receiving a copious amount of fan mail, so much so that he ended up having the owl post filter it.

Meanwhile, Harry was still trying to sort his feelings out. Terry Boot had been spending a lot of time with their group and had split up with Matthew due to his emotional unavailability. Harry had always found Terry attractive. The bloke looked as though he had just walked out of a men's cologne advert! Harry appreciated how smart Terry was, yet he wasn't as annoying about it as Hermione could be. He also had that classic Ravenclaw oddness about him. Harry smiled whenever Terry would stop mid-sentence to count the leaves on the ground and announce if the average had changed at all from the previous count. Also, to help balance out Luna Lovegood's habit of speaking uncomfortable truths, Terry tended to sugarcoat everything and had difficulty saying mean things about people. Despite all of the talk about Snape, Terry still tried to find good things about the git.

After three weeks of avoiding Snape's classes, Harry decided to come back. Snape had kept his comments to a minimum. A month and a half after their encounter, Snape hadn't approached him at all. Of course, Harry had not allowed himself the opportunity to be openly alone with the man since that night. Harry also assumed there was some amount of shame Snape had to feel. Someone so typically in control of their emotions completely losing it like that…Harry could only imagine what that would feel like. Seeing as he blew up several times a month, it was nothing new to him. For Snape though? It seemed as though only he, Harry Potter, could cause Snape to go berserk.

It was kind of nice not having Snape constantly insulting him, his father, or his potions. However – and Harry would deny it if anyone ever accused him of it – he felt like something was missing. He almost missed the insults.

After several Order meetings at the school – since everyone in the DA was of age now, they held their meetings in Dumbledore's office. The Death Eaters had been venturing out into the Muggle world more openly of late, killing Muggles and wizards. The Order knew Voldemort was up to something, as several top researchers in the Ministry had gone missing.

Last year, it had been determined that Harry was destined to be the one to kill Voldemort — that the prophecy was true, more or less, because after Voldemort marked him and killed his parents, Harry knew he would not rest until Voldemort was stopped. While it wasn't as though Harry ever really thought it wasn't going to be him, to hear that he was truly the one to defeat Voldemort was still powerful. What power did he have that someone like Dumbledore did not?

Harry had made a pact with himself not to get too worked up over the issue. There was nothing he could do about the prophecy. Why fight it?

Tonight was a pre-exams party. Seamus and Blaise Zabini had coordinated it and set it up in one of the unused dungeons. All four Houses were invited, but it was strictly NEWT students allowed inside. While there was still some animosity between the houses, what Hogwarts student could resist booze?

Harry had been asked by Seamus to go down to the dungeons to measure the size of the room for the decorations. Intrigued by the idea of room-sized decorations, he went down and made some quick measurements. As he was getting ready to leave, he heard a voice from the doorway.

"Kimberly Selhorn asked me on a date two weeks ago. Why, Mr. Potter, do you think that is?"

Harry spun around. There he was, his long, elegant fingers wrapped around the door frame. Harry had briefly noticed that Snape had begun bathing more frequently, but he avoided staring as much as he could. What was normally disgusting, stringy black hair that had been held back with grease was now new, shiny, flowing hair that had also been trimmed. The dirty goatee was also gone, and while still pale and unhealthy looking, Snape looked ten years younger.

"I'm not a ghost, Potter."

"I know," he choked out.

"Care to answer my question, then?" Snape asked, moving toward the nearest table and leaned against it, his arms folding expectantly.

"How would I know anything about that?"

"As I recall, you and your little Gryffindor pals were trying to get me _a good shag_?"

Harry tried to stop his knees from trembling. "I assure you, I had nothing to do with that."

"You always have been a terrible liar," Snape commented.

"What do you want?" Harry blurted out.

"Well, I heard someone thrashing about in my dungeons and I came to investigate. Finding you here…well that was…a bonus."

Harry closed his eyes. Snape's voice speaking to him felt like a soft blanket was running across his skin. Rather, a soft blanket with hornets in it. As wonderful as it felt, there was a sting that made him wince each time Snape started a new syllable.

"I'm not breaking any rules," Harry said defensively. "I'm allowed to be here."

"You look nervous, though," Snape commented, his eyes drinking Harry in from head to toe. "Could it be something else then?" Harry stayed silent. "Well, now that you're an adult, a REAL man, maybe you could give me some dating advice," he said with a sneer.

"I'll leave," Harry mumbled. "Sorry to disturb you." He began walking toward the door.

"I heard you and the ginger bint broke up," Snape called. "She didn't have the proper equipment, did she?"

Harry stopped and turned around. He was closer to Snape than he had been for over a month. Glaring daggers, Harry said, "What kind of game do you think you're playing at? You – you – did – that – that – to – to me, then you antagonize me in front of the entire class, and then you pretend to ignore me for over a month! What the HELL are you doing, bothering me here?"

"Pretend?" Snape asked, a smirk playing at his lips.

"I know you stare at me all the time. If your goal was to bother me, to make me nervous, then yes, fine, I'm bothered and nervous. I'm trying to deal with everything that's happened to me this past year. Why are you adding to it?"

"It's always about you, isn't it, Potter? The Chosen One, going through a sexual identity crisis. Oh, go write a book about it!" Snape mocked. He gathered himself. "You never answered my question. Should I go to the ball with Selhorn? I'm sure I'd look smashing in a pink dress."

"Fuck whoever you want, Snape. I'm done," Harry said, and started to walk out.

Before he could move even an inch, Snape reached forward and grabbed Harry by the wrist. The feel of Snape's fingers on his skin sent jolts of excitement through his body. Harry originally tried to shake his hand off him, fighting the man, but instead, instinctively rushed forward and kissed him.

With one hand squeezing Harry's wrist, Snape's other hand grabbed onto the back of Harry's head and into his hair, pulling him closer. Harry let himself be devoured by Snape, his head starting to fall back in pleasure. Snape was in better shape than he looked, as he was able to hold up Harry's entire body with one hand.

"Harry? Harry, where are you?" they heard a voice calling from the corridor. Harry shoved Snape away with all his might and tried to fix his hair.

Snape strode out. "Ah, Mr. Finnigan, Potter has informed me that you had plans to party in this classroom…tonight. I assure you that if I find a whiff of even a small get together, you will be cleaning the Hogwarts walls with toothbrushes for the rest of the year. These are _my_ dungeons and they will not be used for your hormone induced pleasure."

Harry snorted at the irony of Snape's statement, but Seamus said nervously, "Yes, sir."

"Potter, we're not done here," Snape said as Harry and Seamus turned to leave.

"Yes, we are," Harry answered with a look of disgust on his face. "Yes, we are."


	7. Confessions

****I'd like to give a quick warning for Harry involved in a m/m relationship OTHER than Snape! Enjoy. :) Thank you to everyone who has left reviews! It is much appreciated! ~Ashii

**Chapter 7: Confessions**

Harry nursed his Firewhiskey as he watched his classmates drunkenly stumbling around the room. The party had been moved to the Ravenclaw Common Room, which seemed like the largest and most interesting among the common rooms. Plus, it was dark blue, which gave a feeling of comfort and classy partying that the other dorms failed to do.

It wasn't as though they were acting very classy though, Harry thought. Pansy Parkinson had already thrown up twice, and Hannah Abbott broke into tears after dancing around the room for ten minutes straight.

Harry had done a couple of shots with Seamus and Ron but had been mostly unsocial. He was humiliated. He had kissed Snape with barely even a second thought. God knows what they would have done if Seamus hadn't walked in. Harry snorted. Drinking must have affected his emotions. Part of him didn't mind that he had willingly kissed Snape.

"Did you hear?" Ginny squealed, bounding up to him. "Snape asked Selhorn on a date in front of the entire fifth year class!"

Harry smirked to himself. Was this another power play? That git was really driving him crazy. "I wonder why he did that all of a sudden?" he mused.

"Well, remember, we heard she'd asked him out a few weeks ago. Maybe it just took some time for the words to make it through the grease in his hair and into his brain!"

"Haven't you noticed? He's bathing now," Harry said, trying to avoid slurring his words. "He wants to impress someone."

"Most anyone else would use flowers or chocolate. Snape takes a shower and expects everyone to worship him," Ginny tittered and took a shot.

"You have another one of those for me?" Harry asked, downing the remainder of his drink. "I'm all empty, you see."

Ginny led him to the table and poured them each a shot. After toasting each other, they threw it back.

Being so small and not drinking often, Harry was definitely a lightweight drinker. Despite knowing this, as well as the fact that he was already drunk, he took another shot anyway. Snape had clearly been affected by their exchange, so much so that he was trying to get Harry's attention. Why was obviously still a question. Even though it seemed as though Snape was still winning whatever he and Harry were playing at, Harry had won this battle.

Okay, so maybe he had some feelings for Snape. Purely physical, though.

"Why don't you just ask him to dance?" Ginny asked, nudging him. "It's not like anyone would care, and it would be on your own terms. In front of everyone, so the rumor mill wouldn't be as bad, either."

"What?" Harry asked. "I think the rumor mill would be pretty crazy if it got out I fancied him. How did you figure it out?" He looked at Ginny. He thought he had hidden how he felt about Snape from everyone pretty well.

"I see the way you look at him," Ginny said. "Go on, ask Terry to dance. Or at least talk to him."

Her words slipped into place. "Oh! Terry! Right then!"

That was too close. Ginny had been way too accepting of his crush. If she found out that he was obsessing about SNAPE—that he was the one who helped Harry realize he was gay through a good fuck and then a mind blowing kiss, well, then…

Terry was everything a gay man could dream of. It wasn't as if Harry wasn't interested either. The man was gorgeous, sweet, endearingly odd, and his friends already liked him. He would be a good boyfriend, and Harry was starting to get desperate for a little companionship. Maybe that was where his feelings for Snape had come from–that Snape was simply the only gay person he had experienced.

Drawing in a deep breath, he marched over to where Terry was standing, talking to a rather pissed Hermione.

"And then," Hermione giggled, "the rune was gone! I didn't know whether to put 'side-tracked' or 'sandpaper'. So I – I left it blank! I'm a bad, bad girl."

Terry laughed and raised an eyebrow at Harry. "What about you, Harry? When have you been bad?"

"Too many times to count." Harry grinned at Hermione, who burst out laughing and stumbled off to find more alcohol.

"Seamus and Blaise throw a pretty good party!" Terry said, stirring his half-full drink.

"Yeah, he does. You seem pretty sober though," Harry commented.

"Yeah, I'm not really one for drinking and losing control of my body and emotions. I'd rather watch. You, on the other hand, look positively pissed."

"Do you want to dance?" Seeing the surprised expression on Terry's face, Harry quickly said, "I like you. And I'm gay too."

"Well, as surprised as I'm _not_, I'm going to say no, just because you're drunk and I don't want you to make an arse of yourself on the dance floor. Also, I would hate people to think I'm taking advantage of you."

"Oh. You wouldn't be, I think about you when I'm sober too," Harry said with a blank stare. "You aren't surprised that I'm…gay?"

"Of course not. You are terrible with women. However," Terry pressed on, "I would not be opposed to you asking me to Hogsmeade after you sober up tomorrow."

Harry smiled. "What if I forget?"

Terry walked up close to him, leaned into his ear, pressed his lips softly against the cartilage, and whispered, "Trust me, I'll remind you."

Harry grinned, excited that Terry might have feelings for him. Snape wasn't the only one to give his body that reaction. Clearly, it worked for Terry too.

As Terry sauntered off, clearly allowing Harry ample time to watch his bum, Ron walked up to Harry, completely trashed. His mumbling was so incoherent that not even his mother could have deciphered it. Deciding to call it a night for him and Ron, he threw back one last shot – whatever it was, he couldn't taste the alcohol anymore – and called to Neville to help him out.

Harry and Neville stumbled with Ron, walking down the stairs of the Ravenclaw Tower and up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower. They fell quite a bit, giggling and falling over again.

Finally, they reached the Fat Lady, who looked at them with disdain when she saw that they were clearly intoxicated.

"Crup fairy!" called out Harry and she opened up the portrait, allowing them to climb up and over the wall.

They fell to the floor with a crash. Everyone was already in bed; it was clearly later than he'd imagined, and Harry rolled his body to the foot of the stairs. Neville, just slightly more sober than he was, walked Ron up to their dorm as Harry crawled on all fours, no longer caring to stand.

They pushed Ron into bed, who immediately began snoring. Harry looked at Neville and giggled. "I snogged him," he whispered. "There's no going back now."

Neville smiled. "Did you really? I saw you were talking to him. Are you really gay?" he asked. "I suspected that was the reason you and Ginny broke up."

"Yeah, I realized it a month ago," Harry admitted. "It's why Ginny and I broke up. I haven't told anyone else yet, though."

"Oh. Oh!" Neville said. "Well, I'm glad you trust me. How was the kiss between you and Terry?"

"Terry? Pshh, he wants me and I want him, but he wouldn't do anything until I sobered up. He's so nice. Such a nice person. A good bloke. A real catch of the day. Like a fish." Harry laughed at his own joke.

"Really? Who did you kiss then?"

"You wouldn't believe me." Harry giggled. "He told me I couldn't be there, bothered me, and then I kissed him. Real good, real hard. Then Seamus walked in. He fucked me, that's how I knew I was gay."

Neville dropped the shoe he was holding. "You did _what_?" he asked.

"Fucked me. He blew me and then fucked me up the arse."

"Who was it? I didn't realize anyone else at Hogwarts was gay."

"I don't know what the bloody hell he is. He's just a bloody git. Greasy, arrogant little twat," Harry slurred. "You know what, Neville? I want him to fuck me on his desk, on our papers. I want to be with him so badly, it hurts. I know it's wrong, but I can't help it. I want him and I don't know why." Harry's eyes filled with tears. "I just – it's – I – " and then promptly threw up all over the floor.

"Oh Harry!" Neville exclaimed. With several attempts at cleansing spells, Neville managed to clean the vomit, but Harry continued to empty out the contents of his stomach. Finally, Neville Summoned a bucket for Harry to use.

When he finally stopped, he tearfully looked at Neville and said, "I just want to be in a normal relationship. Shagging Snape isn't normal, is it? I should find someone else to be with I think."

"Harry, do you really want to talk about this with me?" Neville asked. "You have been drinking, and I honestly don't want to hear about this right now. I'm drunk too, remember?"

"Nev, I have kept this in for far _too_ _long_. I'm going mad not talking about this with someone."

"In that case, I'm going to need another drink," Neville commented and took out a bottle of Firewhiskey from his trunk, taking a sip from it.

"He fucked me, Neville. What am I supposed to do with that? He hates me. Was it punishment? Does he just want to make me more miserable?"

"Harry, I don't know – what I could even say to help fix this. Do you want to turn him in to Dumbledore?"

"Pfffhhh, of course not! It'd be worse that way! Could you imagine what it would be like if everyone knew what he did to me? No, it needs to stay between the two of us."

"And now me," Neville chimed in.

"Yeah, and now you. I just don't know what he wants."

"What do you want?"

"I want to move on with my life. I want to date Terry and I want to defeat Voldemort. Then graduate and become an Auror who plays intramural Quidditch on the side. I also want a new set of robes. I suppose that can wait until morning," Harry responded, leaning his head back onto his bed.

"Then do that. I know Snape can be intimidating, but make it clear you don't want him."

"But, see, I did, and then I kissed him this afternoon. He may have gotten the wrong idea. What does that say about me? Am I just Snape's slag? I didn't even want to sleep with Ginny!" he revealed.

"Well, she was kind of missing a penis, wasn't she?"

Harry cracked a smile and tried to take the Firewhiskey from Neville. After being denied rather easily, he said, "Why are you being so nice about this? You _hate_ Snape more than I do."

Neville frowned. "I guess I can kind of understand why you'd be drawn to him. And frankly, I'm not surprised you're gay."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're terrible with girls. I've seen you noticing the bodies of other male students for years, you know? I guess it fits."

"No, why do you think it's acceptable for me to be drawn to Snape?"

Neville winced. "Forget it. Sorry, it drunkenly slipped out."

Harry frowned. "No, tell me. I know I was puking all over the floor, but it was clear you were hardly surprised."

Neville shook his head. "I swear, you don't want to hear this. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

"It's okay, I won't get mad," Harry insisted. "If you have some insight that I don't have about Snape, anything will help."

Neville sighed. "Well, its basic psychology, isn't it? You are drawn to what you know. The Dursleys physically and verbally abused you and made it clear they hated your parents. Doesn't Snape do the same thing? I saw those finger prints after your detention last month. I knew he had grabbed you, but not, you know, in a sexual way," he revealed.

Harry sat up straight. "No. That isn't true at all. He – they – no. It has nothing to do with the Dursleys. I don't have feelings for the Dursleys."

"You now have feelings for Snape?" Neville asked, raising an eyebrow at Harry.

"You're a real prick when you're drunk," Harry commented. "And you're a prick who is dead _wrong_. I'm_ not_ attracted to Snape, and if I was, it wouldn't be because he verbally abuses me like my aunt and uncle did. I don't ever want to have a relationship with anyone like I did with the Dursleys."

Neville shook his head. "You asked for my opinion, remember? You demanded that I tell you."

Harry threw his shoe at him, missing by at least a foot. "Yeah, well, maybe you should have kept it to yourself! Fuck this, I'm going to bed!"

Harry turned out the light before Neville could say anything else and climbed into the bed. He wasn't obsessed with Snape because he was looking for abuse in a relationship. That was nonsense. Despite the alcohol, it was a long while before he could fall asleep.

* * *

Neither Harry nor Neville acknowledged that a conversation between the two of them had taken place last night. Feeling the massive hangover though, he collected their Hangover Potion from a rather chipper Hermione. It tasted like death, but it was an improvement on the nausea – splitting headache – cranky – clammy skinned hangover he would experience that day if he didn't drink it.

One thing Neville had said he agreed with. He wanted to try to be in a real relationship. Deciding to avoid Neville and Ginny and any possible questions, Harry crept up behind Terry as he walked to breakfast and pulled him behind a suit of armor.

After a yelp and a look of surprise, Terry smiled. "With moves like those, you must have the boys lining up at your door."

Harry chucked. "Right. I have a bodyguard to help beat them away."

"So," Terry said, looking into Harry's eyes. "Will you be courting me with toast this morning?"

Harry held up a slice of toast and marmalade and grinned. "I thought we could take a walk around the Quidditch pitch."

"Sure," Terry said, taking the toast, and they set off.

"When did you know you were gay?" Terry asked after they were outside. "Like I said, I'm not surprised, but I honestly didn't know."

Harry thought for a bit. "I think I've always recognized it on some level, but I don't think I really admitted it to myself until about a month ago. I've been having all of these dreams where I watched myself with another man and he kept yelling, 'Don't you see?' at me. I came to terms with it, broke up with Ginny, and here I am. Moving on."

"Have you told anyone else yet?"

"Ginny knows. I may have also accidentally come out to Neville last night. I was kind of an arse about it," Harry admitted.

Terry laughed. "You do seem to be kind of an arsehole when you're drunk, if I say so myself."

They approached the Quidditch pitch and began walking around the stands. "What about you?" Harry asked.

"I've known for ages. I told my parents in my fourth year and came out publicly in December of that year. Everyone was pretty supportive about that," Terry said. "The only problem is the lack of eligible bachelors at Hogwarts."

"Oh really?" Harry asked, stopping and leaning against the wall.

"Well, until about twelve hours ago. Then the world's _most_ eligible bachelor, the Boy Who Lived, came out to me at a party," Terry said in a low voice. "Now, I can't stop thinking about him."

"So it's all about the fame for you," Harry said jokingly, holding onto Terry's hands and pulling him closer.

"Oh yes," he responded. "Being the lapdog of a famous wizard is all I've ever wanted out of life."

"Well, then, I guess we'd make a pretty good couple," Harry said, pulling Terry closer to close the space between their lips.

This was a sweet, just slightly open-mouthed kiss. It reminded him more of romance, of love. It didn't last very long, maybe five seconds, but it was enough for Harry to decide that he wanted more.

"Well, that was brilliant," Terry said as they pulled away.

"Yeah, it was. So, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? I could buy us some hot chocolate."

Terry smiled. "I'd love to."


	8. Blossoming Romance

Warning for explicit Harry/Terry coming up! (don't worry, we've still got 25k left for Harry and Snape to sort out their differences!)

**Chapter 8: Blossoming Romance**

News of Harry and Terry's relationship – and Harry's sexuality – spread through the school faster than an outbreak of Dragon Pox. Girls cried, boys heckled, even the teachers gave them appraising looks. Apparently, announcing yourself as gay was not what someone getting ready to defeat Lord Voldemort should be dealing with. Too bad.

Harry didn't care. He had himself a boyfriend, whom he liked more and more every time they saw each other. Harry's favorite part about Terry was that he was odd. He was, in fact, the weirdest person he had ever met. In addition to the leaf counting, Terry also did a lot of research on the moon, hoping to study the exact effect it had on werewolves. He had shared with Harry that, after Hogwarts, he wanted to study werewolves and base his career on determining the effect of the lunar cycle on them and hopefully one day finding a cure for lycanthropy.

When Harry revealed that he was still in close contact with Remus Lupin, who had a son on the way, Terry was overjoyed. He had been invited to Grimmauld Place for part of the holidays, so Terry looked forward to continuing his investigation from there, as well as seeing his boyfriend during the break, as Harry reminded him.

Fall term exams were over, so there were just a few days before everyone left to go see their families. It also meant that no one – save Hermione – was doing any sort of work. It also meant another party. Needless to say, Harry had decided not to participate in this one. Seeing as the last time he had partied, he had shared his feelings about Snape to Neville, this was less than exciting. Considering he wasn't even sure anymore what exactly he had said to Neville, Harry had decided to stay in and play chess with Terry.

He and Terry had taken things pretty slowly. Terry was a virgin and Harry claimed that he was also virgin. Terry had made it clear he wanted to wait until they both felt comfortable. After his less than desirable first time, Harry had severe performance anxiety, so he was perfectly happy with this arrangement. In fact, Harry was thankful that sex wasn't really on either of their minds. They had done pretty much everything he and Ginny had done: snogged for a half hour straight, groped over the clothes, and given each other love bites on their necks and chests. This was quite tame for what everyone expected them to be doing. For some reason, everyone assumed that gay Harry had fewer morals than straight Harry did.

Overall, Harry was happy with his relationship with Terry; however, something was constantly nagging at him, and that something was Severus Snape.

Certainly, Snape had done as Harry asked and stayed away from him – in a manner of speaking. Yet, he left Harry little messages, just to let him know that he was still there, still watching and paying attention to everything Harry was doing. He had hinted at the fact that he and Selhorn slept together the week before during Potions class, and he was unusually cheery on various mornings since then. Those who had planned Operation Happy were pleased, but Harry knew that Snape was acting differently on purpose, just to annoy him. Snape would also make various sexual references during class. It was subtle enough so that anyone else might giggle at the poorly chosen words of their professor. Harry knew that those words were meant for him, especially since Snape's eyes would drift over to Harry's cauldron and he would smirk.

It was ironic, wasn't it though? Snape hated how much attention Harry received, yet all he ever did was give Harry attention. At first, Harry thought he was being paranoid, but seeing Neville's stares as well, he realized that he was correct–that Snape was deliberately trying to bother him.

But why? Snape had never given him a clear reason as to why he was doing all of this. It had now been over two months since the detention. Harry had stopped talking back to him in class and even did his work quickly and well. His NEWT class had determined that there needed to be a new ingredient in place of the peacock feathers for the Veritapotio to force out the truth. Harry had been going through a catalogue of different feathers and their chemical properties.

Already, a columnist for _Potions Quarterly_ had come by to interview the class and Snape. Although it was obvious they thought that Snape was off his rocker for trying to get fourteen NEWT students to come up with the solution to the elusive potion, they were still impressed with the amount of work they had done already. The article had run a week ago and Hogwarts received a grant from an anonymous donor for more research in the area.

No, Snape would never make sense. Harry had come to terms with this fact long ago. He hoped that just ignoring him would lead to Snape grow bored and find more school appropriate ways of torturing him, like he had before that eye-opening detention several months ago. Harry definitely missed the days of, "You strut like your father" and "You have an overly inflated head", even the "You are so incompetent at potion-making, you need illustrated directions to remind you what a bloody cauldron is".

* * *

On the evening of the party, Harry and Terry were sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room, doing their Charms homework together. Harry, as usual, was mixing up his incantations and Terry, as usual, was perfecting the wand movements. When they had each finished to their satisfaction, they glanced at each other. "What now?" Harry asked. "That took less time than I thought it would."

Terry shrugged. "We could move on to Potions if you want."

Harry sighed. "I'm so sick of Potions. Bloody Snape."

Terry put his arm around Harry and nuzzled into his neck. "I'm sorry he is so horrible to you."

Harry shook his head. "I should be used to it by now, shouldn't I?"

Terry grinned. "You probably should. But he hasn't even been nearly as cruel to you as he used to be, right?"

"Right," Harry responded. He's gotten worse, he thought grimly. "You know, maybe we could make an appearance at the party tonight. We could just drop in, say hello to all of our drunk classmates, and get to bed early."

Terry smiled. "We could. You should change your shirt though. There is no way I will allow myself to be seen with a boy who has a giant hole in the front of his shirt. Even if he is the Savior."

Harry sighed. "Gays. They're always worried about what they look like or who they are seen with."

Terry softly punched him in the shoulder. "Puh-lease, even Ron wouldn't want to be seen near you."

Harry shook his head and sat up. "Want to accompany me? Even though I might make your social status plummet with my dreadful fashion sense, your excellent taste in clothing improves _my_ status."

Terry linked his arm with Harry's and began walking up the stairs. When they reached Harry's room, Harry reached into his trunk to try and find a decent shirt. "Hey, would you mind helping me find something acceptable? I would hate to embarrass you," he grinned.

Terry started sifting through the piles of clothing in Harry's trunk. "You have no organization skills at all, do you?"

"Well, when you grow up in a cupboard under the stairs, you don't have too much opportunity to practice cleaning and rearranging your things," Harry said, smiling.

"Here we go. That's the shirt you need to wear tonight!" Terry proclaimed, handing him a dark blue jumper.

"How original. The Ravenclaw wants me to wear blue," Harry said dryly and took off his battered shirt, tossing it to the bed.

He noticed Terry admiring his body. Deciding to tease him a bit, Harry raised his arms and tightened the muscles up and down his front. He then glanced over at Terry, whose eyes had grown darker, filled with lust. He looked up at Harry with a daring gaze and stood up.

Harry rushed to Terry and interlocked the other boy's lips with his own. At first, it was just a regular kiss, soft and enjoyable. However, at some point, they ended up on Harry's bed, pulling one of the four poster curtains with them. Harry pinned Terry down and grinned down at him; he rushed to remove Terry's shirt and threw it over his head. Terry began kissing up and down Harry's neck, making loud smacking sounds each time he let go of his skin.

"I want to suck you off," Harry breathed, moving down to Terry's trousers.

"Are you sure?" Terry asked, panting and looking into Harry's eyes.

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life," he replied, and unbuttoned Terry's trousers, pulling them down as he continued to position himself.

Out sprang Terry's cock, already erect and straining for attention. Harry moved down to admire it. He had not had a very good view of things with Snape, so he savored this moment with Terry. Terry was slightly different than himself, thicker and more purple.

Harry licked a trail from the base of the shaft to the tip of Terry's hard prick. Hearing Terry moan, he knew that he was on the right track. Harry lowered his jaw and took Terry fully in his mouth, careful to cover his teeth with his lips. After the initial feeling of needing to gag, he began moving up and down. He remembered that Snape had also moved his tongue across him while still pulsing his head up and down, so he tried that. Unsuccessful, he gagged a bit and pulled back. Apparently, that was only for experts.

He decided to go with what he knew worked, and continued bobbing up and down on Terry's cock. Terry clearly liked it, and several times was unable to contain himself and thrust upward into Harry's throat. Harry didn't mind though; he loved to see the usually reserved Terry so wanton and lustful.

Barely five minutes later, Terry motioned to Harry that he was close. Grinning, Harry didn't let up and continued his oral assault on Terry's prick. He enjoyed the feeling of how Terry's prick grew even more swollen in his mouth every time he sucked it just a little harder and deeper. Terry let out a small cry as he came, spurting hot come down Harry's throat. Harry had sampled his own seed before, but this was different. Harry was curious as to what his new boyfriend tasted like; Terry tasted like a mixture of saltiness and sweetness. After he had swallowed every last drop, he came back up to Terry and wrapped his arms around him.

"I could – " Terry started to say.

"Are you really ready though?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Well, you were just so good, I figured you might want something in exchange," Terry suggested, sitting up and stroking Harry's arm. "I don't even think doing your homework for a week would make up for that."

Harry smiled at his boyfriend; he was so sweet, so considerate. "If you feel comfortable, I would definitely not deny you access to my pants."

Terry leaned forward and kissed him, his hands traveling down to the insides of Harry's trousers. As he wrapped his hand around Harry's cock, Harry threw his head back and moaned. When Terry moved his hand up and down, Harry fell onto his pillow and thrust into the air.

"Someone seems a little impatient," Terry teased as he slid Harry's pants down his legs at an excruciatingly slow pace.

"Someone seems a little _slow_," Harry retorted, shutting his eyes.

Harry kept his eyes closed, waiting. When he felt Terry's lips on his sac, Harry cried out. Masturbation seemed so sad and pathetic now. Only the feel of a man's tongue running up and down his shaft could bring him to this level of pleasure. He writhed on his bed, trying desperately not to fuck Terry's throat when he took him in fully.

While Terry had never sucked another man off before, he was an eager beginner; what the anxious Ravenclaw lacked in technique, he made up for in enthusiasm and determination. Minus several bites and awkward movements, he was brilliant, bringing Harry to completion in less than five minutes.

When Harry warned him, Terry pulled up and angled Harry's cock onto his stomach as he pulsed in Terry's hands, pulling him off. With a mischievous look, he stuck his tongue out and licked up Harry's stomach, tasting his come. He pulled himself up to Harry, and kissed him, allowing Harry to taste himself on the other man's tongue. This lewd action was so hot, so dirty that Harry's prick twitched slightly again.

"I love you," Terry muttered into Harry's neck.

Harry paused. He liked Terry a lot and enjoyed everything they had done together – including this – but did that mean he loved him? He knew he loved Ginny, but it was more like sisterly love. How did he feel about Terry? Deciding that this wasn't really the time to pause and didn't want to offend his loving boyfriend, he decided to go for it. "I love you too," he said, stroking Terry's hair.

When Terry went to sit up, they noticed that they were slightly stuck together. "We should probably take a shower," Terry said.

"All this for a bloody change of shirt," Harry muttered, grabbing his clothes and walking out to the bathroom. Terry laughed and went to join him.

* * *

By the time they finally made it to the party, this time in one of the unused classrooms in the North Tower, it was already eleven. His friends were in a drunken stupor, dancing, snogging, and drinking even more.

"Hey mate!" called Ron. "Want some mead?"

Harry shook his head. "Last time I drank, I ended up puking on the floor and crying to Neville about my problems. I think I'll take it easy for a little while longer."

"Right. You know, I had a lot of weird dreams that night. I actually dreamed that you fucked Snape. Or Snape fucked you. It sure seems funny now that you're a poufter, right? Like I'm a Seer or something?"

"Let's hope not," Terry shuddered. "Don't let Trelawney hear you talking about your prophetic dreams. Could you imagine if she heard that one of her students was dreaming about Harry Potter?"

Ron made a face. "You're right. I should definitely keep that to myself from now on."

"You seem quiet," Terry commented to Harry, who had a look of horror on his face.

"Just – the idea of – Snape – in that way – ugh," Harry stammered, avoiding his boyfriend's eyes.

"You're right. You fucking Snape is far scarier of an image than Snape fucking Selhorn is," Ron commented, swaying into the nearest wall.

Harry dropped his wand and quickly picked it up. "Slippery fingers tonight," he said to Terry.

"You could probably put those butter fingers to use elsewhere." Terry grinned.

Harry blushed lightly and smiled. "All in good time." Looking around, he shrugged at Terry. "Was there anyone you wanted to see sloshed tonight?"

Terry nodded. "Some of my housemates hid my Transfiguration notes. I think I'm going to get them to reveal some of their secrets to me and use them against them during terms in Easter."

As Terry snuck away to torment his friends, Harry sat down on a chair next to the alcohol table. He still wondered how they managed to get so much liquor from the Three Broomsticks each time they partied without anyone asking why they needed so much to drink. Perhaps it was just a recognized rite of passage at Hogwarts, that all NEWT students needed to blow off some steam with a good party every month or so.

Ron overhearing the conversation between him and Neville, now that was something to be concerned about. Ron had been so pissed that night, Harry hadn't even considered that he would be conscious to overhear their conversation, let alone remember it. From now on, he needed to be more careful.

"You like him?" a voice asked on his left.

Harry glanced over and realized it was Malfoy. "Yeah, he's a great bloke."

Malfoy sat down next to him and raised an eyebrow. "You don't love him though, do you?"

Harry glowered at him. "What would you know about it?"

Malfoy chuckled; he was clearly pissed too. "I see how you look at him," he said, smirking at Harry. "Boot's a great bloke, yes, but you don't love him. He's just your rebound for whoever you really love."

"Shove off."

"Let me guess," Malfoy continued, obviously ignoring Harry. "It's someone emotionally withdrawn…someone who can physically overpower you. That's why you've gone with such a soft option in Boot. You're compensating for whatever dirty thoughts are pacing through your mind. To think that the hero of the wizarding world is a cheating, sadistic prick does make this night more interesting."

"Why do you even care?" Harry shot back. For some reason, he was unable to lie to Draco Malfoy. Maybe the fact that he was removed from the situation helped a bit. Also, talking to drunk people seemed to take the edge off.

"Boot is a great bloke. I don't really want to see him hurt, Potter."

"Why, you want him for yourself?"

Malfoy burst out in laughter. "Me? Fancy blokes? No thanks, I'm quite into women. You, on the other hand, appear to only have one person on the brain. But who could it be?" he mused, looking into Harry's eyes. "Who has stolen the heart of the Chosen One, the most eligible bachelor to ever come through Hogwarts? What man has captured the eyes of the great Harry Potter?"

"Worry about yourself."

"No thanks, I'm quite happy with where I'm at. The Boy Who Lived, though? He needs to come to terms with whatever is going through that brain of his," Malfoy said, poking Harry's temple.

"Get off of me, Malfoy," Harry demanded, swatting his hand away.

Malfoy cackled again. "Don't tell me it's someone forbidden? It has to be someone older; maybe he's married already. The werewolf?"

"Of course not!" Harry exclaimed. "Remus is like a father to me!"

Malfoy tilted his head to the right. "Oh, right. Okay, so someone not at all father-like to you. You aren't that twisted. But maybe, just maybe, they might be as old as your daddy. Or just a little older. Charlie Weasley, perhaps? I know you look at his arse; I saw you do it over the summer."

"Oh sod off, Malfoy! Go find another person to harass," Harry said, standing up quickly.

"You know I'll figure it out, Potter, so why don't you just tell me now?"

"Yeah, but then you wouldn't have the chance to figure it out for yourself. Then what would you do?" Harry asked. Malfoy seemed to be at loss for words in his drunken state. "Go blow yourself."

As Malfoy sputtered with an attempt at an insult to Harry, he walked off in a huff. How was it that Malfoy of all people was able to see that he didn't truly love Terry? Besides, how did Malfoy see that he was harboring feelings for someone else?

No, he wasn't harboring feelings. Feelings were very different from thoughts. Snape was in his _thoughts_. He didn't have any feelings toward Snape. How could he? The man had never said a kind word to Harry.

He thought back to what Neville had accused him of doing the last time there was a party. Was he drawn to Snape because he was as – no, more – verbally abusive than the Dursleys had been? There was no way that was the situation. His obsession with Snape had stemmed from his first year, in the belief that he was trying to resurrect Voldemort, and continued throughout the years, convinced that Snape was up to something malicious.

Yet, he never was. Despite his clear grudge regarding anything relating to his father, Snape had proven that he was a good man. Harry frowned, wishing that it was easier to just hate Snape. These mixed feelings were stupid, he decided. He was going to go with the norm, and hate Snape again. Maybe allow Hermione to try and talk some sense into him. It was the only way he could still enjoy his relationship with Terry without feeling dirty on the inside. What they had done tonight had been wonderful, yet a part of him knew that he was thinking about Snape, comparing experiences. He was surprised when he found that his experience with Snape had been far more intimate and surreal than his experience with Terry. It didn't seem right that someone who loved him was barely even comparable to a man who hated him, who had fucked him out of anger and fury. What did that say about Harry? How the hell was he so fucked up in the head?

He definitely needed the holidays to come soon. All of this stress was killing his mood.


	9. A New Year's Eve to Remember

Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! I am so happy all of you like it! Quick warning for some infidelity, as well as explicit anal sex in this chapter!

**Chapter 9: A New Year's Eve to Remember**

The holidays didn't prove to be much better. While staying in Grimmauld Place meant many good things – he got to spend time with the Weasleys and other Order members he hadn't seen since the summer – it also meant the Malfoy family was there again, and that Snape was in and out of the house, along with his girlfriend Selhorn. He was hit with an unwelcome blast of jealousy every time he saw them holding hands under the table or snogging in the hallway.

Terry had stayed for a week with Harry before he was to leave to spend Christmas Day with his family. Harry hardly let Terry out of his sight; they did everything together–eat, play Gobstones, even sing Christmas Carols. Terry and the Weasley family taught him some wizard holiday songs (his new favorite, "The Patronus Star") and he taught them some classical Muggle ones (Ron was particularly fond of Rudolph). They cooked, ate great food, and then cleaned the kitchen twice over.

The night before Christmas Eve, Dumbledore called for an Order meeting. With Grimmauld Place still being the headquarters for the Order, everyone gathered in the small kitchen to discuss any remaining plans before everyone went home to their families.

Harry knew most of what was being discussed, as he had been present for any meetings before. Terry was invited along and they were busy playing a hand-holding game, not really listening to the conversation.

He glanced over at Snape, who was sitting in his usual spot, Selhorn next to him and leaning on his shoulder. They made eye contact briefly before Snape sneered and began tracing circles along Selhorn's arm. She made a contented sound and stretched, moving closer to Snape. Harry narrowed his eyes and scooted his chair closer to Terry's, sliding his foot across the other man's calf. Still holding hands, Harry pulled their hands up onto the table for everyone to see. Terry smiled at Harry briefly and turned to listen to Mad Eye, who was saying something about cursed cauldrons being sent to the Apothecary.

"Shhhh," he heard Selhorn whisper.

Harry casually turned his head to see what Snape and Selhorn were up to. He was whispering in her ear and whatever he was saying caused her to giggle. Snape's eyes raised to meet Harry's.

A rush of blood shot through his body. He felt his face heat, toes tingle and cock twitch. Those piercing black eyes. Even though it had been several seconds, Harry kept staring. He saw more than just hatred coming from Snape. Yes, lust was present in his eyes. For him?

Harry narrowed his eyes. This wasn't fair! He was cooped up in this bloody house where he had to watch the disgusting display of his two middle-aged professors. He didn't care that one of those professors was Snape. No, he definitely didn't.

"Harry?" he heard Terry ask. His head snapped up. He wasn't sure how much time passed during this non-verbal exchange, but the next thing he knew, the meeting was over and it was just the four of them sitting at the table.

"Let's go, Kimberly. I can think of a couple things we could do to pass the time," Snape said and practically pulled her out of the room.

Tears formed in Harry's eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. Swallowing his sobs, he turned and smiled at Terry. "Interesting meeting, yeah?"

Terry rolled his eyes. "For being an organization that fights You-Know-Who, we certainly do a lot of dull things."

* * *

On Christmas Eve, Harry and Terry exchanged gifts before he left to stay with his parents. Terry had given him a quill that he had charmed to edit long pieces of writing, along with some of Harry's favorite chocolates. Harry went a little overboard and bought Terry a set of wizarding encyclopedias. That night, they had orally pleasured each other again. Yes, it had been a happy Christmas indeed.

Now that Terry was gone and Ron and Hermione were visiting her parents, Harry struggled to find things to occupy himself with. He and Malfoy had played several Seeker's games when the holidays had first started, but since then, the Order deemed it unsafe to fly brooms in the middle of an unsupervised field. Disappointed, the two of them played several games of chess each day. Even though Malfoy was a little prick, unlike Ron, he worked with Harry to improve his chess skills. Ron was in for a surprise when he got back.

He and Malfoy had somehow ended up staying on good terms throughout the break. Along with the games of chess, they would occasionally make dinner for whoever was staying at Grimmauld Place that night. Harry would teach Malfoy how to cook the food, and Malfoy would show Harry household charms he had learned from the house elves when he was little. It seemed as though he had forgotten the conversation that took place at the party before the holidays, much to Harry's satisfaction.

Unfortunately, Snape had chosen the room right next to Harry's, probably on purpose in a vain attempt at getting under Harry's skin. Snape only stayed the night in Grimmauld Place when Selhorn was there. Harry could occasionally hear the thudding of the wall next to him, knowing that the two professors were fucking. Harry was less than pleased with this arrangement. A burning in his stomach happened whenever he thought about Snape and Selhorn together. Even though he had been partly responsible for getting the two of them together, Harry was unhappy about it. It wasn't as if Snape or Selhorn were particularly nicer than usual since they had started dating, so there were only negative consequences on his end created from Operation Happy.

He knew he could use a Silencing Charm to block out the sounds, but there was something about hearing Snape's moans that drew him to listen in on their activities. Harry didn't enjoy it at all, yet he listened every night Snape stayed over.

Harry was looking forward to New Year's Eve. A large portion of the Order was coming to celebrate with each other. It seemed as though whenever they had large gatherings, it was only to plan out the next strategy for capturing more Death Eaters. Harry was excited about seeing everyone again in a more casual circumstance.

New Year's Eve morning was spent cleaning with Mrs. Weasley. Harry had originally thought it might be weird without Ron there (he and Hermione were due back later that evening), but Mrs. Weasley treated him no differently than she did when Ron was with him. Coming across some of Sirius' things in a corridor sent him into a bout of depression that he dealt with by doing some target practice with his wand and charmed darts.

A dart flew past his face as someone else threw one. Harry turned and saw Malfoy. "You wanted to get out of there too?" he asked.

Malfoy nodded. "I haven't seen that side of my family in a while. Knowing they're all dead or Death Eaters doesn't really put me in a mood for celebration."

Harry handed Malfoy more darts. "I saw a bunch of Sirius' things, and I kind of lost inspiration to clean too," he offered.

"You know we're not friends," Malfoy interjected quickly, apparently disgusted at the sudden display of emotions. "I normally wouldn't be caught dead spending time with someone like you. You are just the only one close to my age here."

Harry laughed. "Don't worry, Malfoy, I won't tell anyone that we spent all summer and all winter break together. Anyone who I care about already knows."

"Yes, but you don't have to share that we actually did things together."

"What? You don't want the ladies to get the wrong idea about you?" Harry quipped.

"Actually, Potter, that's not a bad idea. I could hint that we had a fling over the holidays. I would be famous. Do you have any idea what a hot commodity you are these days? Even though you're not attracted to pussy, it's definitely still attracted to you."

Harry laughed again and shook his head. "You're a strange bloke, you know that?"

Malfoy shrugged and sent a dart straight into the middle of the board. "Bullseye," he said proudly, then looked at Harry in confusion. "What is a bullseye, exactly? And why is it on the target board? It looks nothing like a bull."

"Not a clue. I just shoot the targets." Harry picked up a dart and took aim.

"Oh, I figured out who you are in love with," Malfoy said casually, as Harry sent a dart flying far off to the right, smashing a pot.

Harry groaned. "Not this again."

"Actually, he was the one who was being obvious about it. You have managed to hide it pretty well," Malfoy complimented Harry. "Do tell. What happened between you and Snape?"

Harry dropped his wand and spun around to Malfoy. "What?"

"Well, he can't stop staring at you; he parades Selhorn around like a puppy on display, and he…well, he sniffs you. He's obviously completely in love with you."

"Again, I say, what?"

"Oh, please, Potter, I know you better than you think I do. After I figured out how he feels, I noticed how you turn your neck for him to look at it. When he walks in, I see you glance up and then quickly back down at whatever you were doing before. You're bloody smitten with the man."

"I am not," Harry argued, picking up his wand.

"If you're not, then he is, Potter. He can't stay away from you."

"Malfoy, it's just this power play we've been doing for a few months now. He wants to show that he's dominant over me. He just wants to get under my skin and bother me. That's all."

"I think he wants to get inside your skin and fuck you," Malfoy said, leering at Harry.

Harry shot a dart at Malfoy, who easily deflected it. "Do your friends know?"

"Know what?" Harry feigned innocence.

"That you love him?"

"God, Malfoy, I don't love him. It's just a stupid crush," he admitted. Uh oh. That was something he had not yet admitted to himself, but of course, he had to be an idiot and admit it to Malfoy. Bloody hell. "He just wants to bother me. I sometimes fight back in my own way," Harry said, attempting to defend himself.

"What? Both of you are parading around your lovers in each other's faces?"

"I love Terry," Harry insisted.

"You don't. You never have. Listen here, Potter. I'll keep your secret, if that's what you're worried about. It isn't mine to share. But you need to be honest with yourself at least. Admit how you feel about Terry, about Severus, and things will fall into place," Malfoy said, throwing the dart back at Harry, aimed at his face.

Harry caught it mid-air; the dart was like a pointed Snitch. "I don't know how I feel about anything," he admitted. "It seems like the more I think about things, the more complicated they get."

Malfoy held up a hand. "I don't need to hear the latest Potter drama. I just thought I'd give you my two Knuts and be done with it."

"And thanks for not judging me."

"Who says I'm not?"

* * *

Harry held the glass of champagne in his hands, counting down from the minute with the rest of his friends and Order members. This had been a great night. He had been able to catch up with Remus, who was sharing pregnancy horror stories with him. Harry shuddered, glad he had decided to go a different route – one that had a cock.

Despite the uncomfortable conversation between him and Malfoy, Harry felt a little better. It had taken his mind off of Sirius, and just knowing that someone else was on his side, whether or not he admitted it, was nice. He knew that Malfoy was right—that he needed to either have a difficult conversation with Terry or with Snape. A conversation with Terry would end in heartbreak and pain, but a conversation with Snape would be just as painful. Harry had managed to blanket the trauma involved with his detention and keep any sexual thoughts about the professor at bay. Even though he had admitted his crush to Malfoy, he knew he couldn't act on it. It would be foolish; it would be the stupidest thing he had ever done.

He would talk to Snape first. If he could just get these feelings out of his system, maybe he could love Terry then. Maybe he had mentally put Snape on a pedestal. Perhaps if he was able to knock him down, then Harry could move on with his life.

"3 – 2 – 1 – Happy New Year!" the crowd cheered and toasted each other. Harry enjoyed the tickle from the carbonation and alcohol as it ran down his throat and warmed his insides. He glanced over at Malfoy, who was talking to Snape.

"Where is Professor Selhorn tonight?" Malfoy asked, giving a significant glance to Harry, who just rolled his eyes.

"She decided to visit friends tonight. Between me and the Order, she hasn't had much time to catch up with them," Snape explained.

"You must stay here then! Potter and I always play a game of chess before bedtime, and beating him is such a satisfactory activity before falling asleep."

"Yes, as that's the ONLY thing you can beat me at," Harry muttered, tossing back the rest of his champagne and smiling at Ron and Hermione, who were snogging, completely oblivious to the world.

"I'm not partial to this house," Snape told Malfoy. "Plus, as much fun as watching Potter get beaten at wizard's chess sounds, I can enjoy watching him fail miserably at Potions making any day of the year."

Malfoy chuckled. "Well, Severus, it's good to see you outside of school and these bloody meetings."

"Likewise." Snape nodded at his favorite student and walked to his bedroom.

In that exact moment, Harry made a decision. It was bound to be a stupid one, but it was a decision nonetheless. He chased after Snape to his room.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked the figure bending on the other side of his bed. When Snape jumped at his voice, Harry smirked. "What, you're the only one who can sneak up on people?"

"I thought you wanted me to stay away from you," Snape replied, standing up and then sat on his bed, looking up at Harry expectantly.

Making another decision, Harry closed the door behind him and sat next to Snape. "You're lying. You've never stayed away from me."

Snape smirked. "Is it my fault that you're sitting on my bed?"

"Shut up. It's my turn to talk right now," Harry demanded. "You follow me around. You chose to sleep in the room right next to mine. You have loud, obnoxious sex with Selhorn. You make penis references all the time in class. Apparently, you even sniff me. I know you're trying to get under my skin." When Snape said nothing, Harry continued. "It's working. I can't focus on my relationship with Terry. Every time we're together, I can't help but think of you," he reluctantly admitted. "I have a question though. I think it will help me, and I need you to answer it. A yes or a no will help me with my future decisions. At that – detention – when I accused you of being jealous of me be – because you weren't having any sex – you were shocked. Were you jealous of someone else? Were you jealous of Ginny?"

The amusement left Snape's eyes and had been replaced by a mixture of horror and lust. Harry continued, "How long have you had feelings for me?"

After a poignant silence, which Harry felt went on for ages, Snape seemed to find his voice. "You asked me to answer one question, Potter," he snapped.

"You don't deny it, then? That you're – you – "

Snape sighed loudly and closed his eyes in defeat, casting his head downward. Harry didn't expect anything more from the man, seeing as he had the emotional accessibility of an ape. He reached out to touch Snape's shoulder, but he jerked away from it. "Don't."

Harry pushed forward. "I'll do what I want, Snape," he demanded. "You want to play a game for three months straight? I've finished with playing these games. I'm basically throwing myself at you here, and you don't even want me to touch you? Isn't this what you wanted?" he yelled.

Harry heard Snape mutter a Silencing spell, and then he was knocked onto his back. Snape crushed his lips against Harry's, wrapping his arms around him as well. Harry moaned into Snape's mouth, realizing how much he missed this. Their hands roamed across each other's bodies, feeling so strange, yet incredibly familiar. Snape nonverbally spelled away their clothing as Harry clutched onto his body, afraid that he would melt right into the bed if he didn't keep holding on, kissing him like this.

This was what Harry needed. This was passion, this – oh fuck it – this was love. Harry didn't care if it was due to some sick Oedipus complex or not, this was amazing. That's all that mattered, and the fact that it had only been three months since this had last happened was outrageous; it felt like years. He and Snape seemed to fit inside each other like a glove.

"I need you inside me," Harry whispered desperately, pulling away for just a second, then continuing to kiss the older man deeply.

Snape sucked on Harry's bottom lip and muttered the lubrication spell. He adjusted his position over Harry, moved himself at Harry's entrance and plunged in.

This was frantic, furious sex. Harry cried out with every thrust. He was sent into a place filled with ecstasy and pleasure. He could no longer see the room, barely even the argyle sheets on the bed. He clutched the pillows above him, gritting his teeth as Snape plowed into him again and again.

Snape grabbed Harry's cock and started stroking it up and down–even the man's fingers were fucking magical. Harry let out another moan and began thrusting as well; he just couldn't restrain himself.

"Oh fuck!" Harry cried as he came all over himself and Snape. Snape continued his vigorous rhythm for barely even a minute longer, and then fell forward, capturing Harry's lips in another frantic kiss as he came.

For several minutes afterward, all Harry could hear were their panting and racing hearts. Snape pulled himself out of Harry slowly, but continued to lie on top of him, his face buried next to Harry's left ear.

Harry felt more secure in this position than he ever imagined he could. Snape's warm arms were wrapped around him. He could feel every hair on Snape's body brushing against his own and Snape's hot breath on his neck. Harry closed his eyes and tried to savor as much of this experience as he could.

Harry knew that after this tryst with Snape, there was no going back. He had his answer; yes, being with Snape cleared everything up. He knew now who he wanted to be with. He knew who Snape wanted to be with too. When this had happened–he had no idea. WHY this had happened left him with even less speculation. Yet, somehow with all his soul and being he knew that he was most definitely in love with Severus Snape.


	10. Together?

**Chapter 10: Together?**

Harry opened his eyes and then closed them immediately after seeing the sunlight shining into his face. He groaned and rolled over, but bumped into something soft and warm. Opening his eyes again, he realized that he was in the bed with Snape, who was still sleeping.

Harry stared at the man in shock. He didn't remember falling asleep with him…just the mind-blowing sex…and then came…tiredness. He must have just fallen asleep afterward. He reached out and stroked Snape's shoulder. The man stirred and opened his eyes. They stared at each other for a while, soaking in each other's gaze. Harry felt as though Snape could look at him and instantly know everything he was thinking. Seeing as he wasn't even sure what he was thinking, it was an interesting feeling.

What had he done? This was definitely not his original plan. The original plan had been to convince Snape to leave him alone and then move on. Where had it gone wrong? Probably around the time when he announced that he was throwing himself into Snape's arms, he answered for himself.

It was okay, though. Harry had finally decided what he wanted. He wanted Snape in a big way. All of the feelings he had been squashing for months finally bubbled up to the surface; there was no turning back now.

But how? And why now? How could they possibly make this work? They were so different, on such separate wavelengths; it was unlikely that Snape would ever share his feelings with Harry. Could he handle that? At this point, he didn't have much choice. Whether he wanted to or not, Harry had already fallen much too hard for this irritating but brilliant man lying next to him. Merlin help him.

"Good morning," Harry finally said with a shy smile.

Snape said nothing and sat up. He picked up his clothes, which had been set on top of a chair in the room.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Harry asked, taking off the covers and sitting up on the bed. He looked at the man who had his back to him, obviously trying to pretend he wasn't there.

"Is there anything to discuss?" Snape replied softly as he slid his trousers up his legs.

Harry frowned. "Well – yeah. Is this what you want? Don't you want to be with me?"

Snape again didn't respond and continued pulling on the rest of his clothing.

"Hey, I thought we were past this vague game. I told you, I don't want to deal with that anymore. We've been together twice now." Harry stood up and walked within several inches of Snape. "Talk to me, please."

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry. "I never intended for this to happen," he finally said. "I try to keep my emotions in check. Last night and …the night of your detention…that shouldn't have happened. I lost control. I am going to do something I never do – apologize. Now, please, go away."

"It's my fault too. You're not the only one to blame here. I could have stopped you every time. In fact, I initiated everything," Harry insisted.

Snape shook his head and avoided Harry's eyes. "You are seventeen. You don't know any better."

"Don't talk to me like that. I've had a long time to think."

"What we did last night – it can't happen again. No matter how much either of us might want it."

Harry frowned. "So you torment me for months and now you have a conscience?"

"Yes. I've finally realized what is good for both of us. I never meant for anything to go as far as it did." He paused for a second and closed himself off further from Harry. "I have Kimberly and you have Boot. Let's keep it that way."

Harry felt as if he had been slapped across the face. "Let me get this straight. We both admit that we have feelings for each other, but we should see other people, because it isn't proper for us to be together? That's what you're telling me?"

Snape shrugged his arms into his robes, buttoning up the buttons. "It's for the best Potter – Harry."

The use of his given name made Harry's heart beat faster. "What if we waited until I finished school? Then it wouldn't be inappropriate and less people would be upset…not that I give a shit what anyone else thinks."

"It isn't about that. Some part of you must understand that."

"You-you just want to forget this ever happened? Severus, I-"

Snape nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, Potter. You'll thank me for it one day."

"Will you at least kiss me?" Harry whispered, trying to hold back tears.

Snape moved forward and cupped his hands around Harry's face. Green eyes met black and Snape closed in, kissing Harry gently but still somehow managed to leave him breathless.

This kiss was slow and impassioned, both men trying to savor each second, knowing that they would have to preserve this moment because it could very well be their last kiss. Harry couldn't believe that this was happening. The same day he realized what he wanted, he was told he couldn't have it. It just wasn't fair. In all honesty, Harry agreed with Snape. Perhaps this was why he fought his feelings for so long. He knew that this could never work and subconsciously, he wanted to avoid getting hurt.

Snape was the first to pull away. Harry pressed his forehead against the older man's and sighed. "So we go back to how it was before all of this."

Snape nodded. "We do."

Without another word, Harry pulled away. He slipped his clothes back on and walked out of the room. Glancing around to make sure no one else was watching, he snuck into his room next door. He messed up the bed to make it look as though he had slept in it and changed his clothes.

His heart was still pounding. He loved Snape. He wasn't even sure what he loved about the man. It wasn't as though Snape had ever been nice to him, had ever shown an obvious interest in his life.

No, it was what he saw on the inside of the man that Harry loved. Having had sex with him twice now, Harry could sense Snape's soul, the very essence of who he was. He knew nothing about him, yet everything.

No, Harry needed to put these feelings away. What Snape had told him was true. He would be far happier with Terry, who loved him and shared his emotions with Harry without any hesitation. Terry was the one who would help him become a better man, not a miserable one. Yet his heart ached, for what was, for what could be with Snape.

He collapsed on his bed, his tired eyes full of tears. He heard that as you grew older, you would be able to make fewer mistakes, deal with problems more easily. Clearly, whoever said that was wrong. He gritted his teeth, trying desperately to fight the sobs from escaping his throat. He was unsuccessful. Harry punched his pillow over and over again, finally releasing his pent up fury.

While he felt like a child, the punching and the tears made him feel better. At least some tension was released. He stared at the mold spot in the corner on the ceiling of his room; for some reason, looking at that imperfection always seemed to calm him.

It was time to move on. At least, he had been able to experience one night with Snape. That was one more night than he ever knew he wanted.

* * *

Coming back from the holidays was different. He was overjoyed to see Terry again, and was happy that Ron and Hermione had finally come up for air. Ron had revealed that he and Hermione had made love for the first time during the holidays. Harry was thrilled for them and that their relationship was going so well.

At the end of the break, there had been a stir from Voldemort. Some Death Eaters had killed several Muggle children and hung them up on the Tower of London with a message promising more deaths unless they transferred control of the Ministry to them. Dumbledore had remained strong during this time and sent out several Order members to assist with Obliviating the Muggles and some spy work as well. A graduate of Durmstrang, Piers Vondoff, was trying to take Snape's place as an undercover Death Eater. So far, he had met with the Death Eaters, but had not yet taken the mark, nor had he met Voldemort.

Harry knew that time was ticking and his next and hopefully final encounter with Voldemort was drawing closer. "Neither can live while the other survives" seemed pretty clear as to what one of them had to do. And soon.

The most recent meeting, the one they had right before he returned to school, was difficult. He had hardly paid any attention, even though they had discussed something about the Imperius Curse. He was too busy watching Snape, who was holding hands with Selhorn. Just glancing at them, one would think they were a happy couple. Harry knew otherwise though, he saw the way that Snape's eyes did not look directly at her when they spoke. He knew all of the signs to look for when you have feelings for someone else, because he had done them all himself.

The first week back to school had been long, but it was finally the weekend. However, for a NEWT student in January, that meant very little. Deciding to focus on some Potions work, Harry and Terry had set up a table in one of the unused classrooms in the dungeons to work on creating Veritapotio. They were convinced that they were close, closer than the other students in the class.

Of course, being by themselves in a warm dungeon classroom had its own perks as well.

Harry pulled himself away from Terry's lips for the fourth time that afternoon and looked down at the cauldron. "We'll burn the base."

Terry grinned. "Of course, NOW you care about the potion. What happened to your whole 'Everything Snape sucks' mantra?"

Harry shrugged. "We did some Order work together in Grimmauld Place after you left. I suppose we came to some sort of truce. I don't think he likes me any more than he did at the start of the holidays, but I think he's finally realized that I'm not my father." He shuddered, thinking about how wrong that would be if it were true.

"That's good. I'm glad you're making peace with people. And I saw you and Malfoy were being friendly on the train too!"

Harry stirred the mixture in the cauldron. "Isn't it funny how easy it is to be friendly to someone when they don't want you dead?"

Terry chuckled. "Malfoy never wanted you dead. He was just angry that you didn't want to be his friend our first year."

"Really? You don't think it had anything to do with the fact that his father worshipped a man who killed my parents?"

"I think that would be a reason YOU wouldn't like him," Terry pointed out.

"Sometimes, your neutrality can be annoying."

"You like it," Terry teased.

"I think you're right," Harry said and pulled him into another kiss.

Harry pushed him into a wall and laced their fingers together, pulling their hands above their heads. Terry began grinding against him, Harry following suit. Just when things started to get heated, they heard a noise behind them.

"Isn't this cozy?" They heard someone ask in the doorway. Pulling away quickly from his boyfriend, Harry saw Snape standing there, his face cold and expressionless.

"Sorry, Professor," Terry murmured. He pushed himself off of the wall and motioned to the cauldron. Clearly trying to act as though nothing had happened, he said, "Harry and I think we figured it out, though. We found the missing ingredient!"

Snape crossed his arms. "Have you? With all of your – productivity?" he sneered.

There. Harry let out the breath he was holding. At least there was some form of emotion on the man's face.

Terry shrank. Harry glanced at him and knew that he couldn't explain anymore. A professor looking down on him for anything caused him to freeze up. He decided to explain it himself.

"Well, yes. I know you saw – well, what we were doing, but we really have been working. We discovered that mandrake root wasn't satisfactory, so we needed to try moonstone instead. It provides the same effect, but lessens the chance of the potion being lethal due to the –"

"The lavender," Snape finished.

"We are making the base right now, which needs to simmer for a month. After that, we just add the normal ingredients from Veritaserum. In theory, it should work," Harry finished. He searched Snape's face for any sort of sign they were on the right track.

"I don't praise students from a House other than Slytherin. Ever. So listen. After you have finished mixing it, you will bring this base up to my office. I will inspect it. While I still have my doubts, I believe that your discovery is the missing link to a working potion."

Terry and Harry gaped at Snape. That was definitely the closest thing they had ever heard come close to a compliment from him. "We – we will. And we won't mess around anymore," Terry promised.

"See that you don't. I would hate to turn in the great Harry Potter for snogging in a classroom," Snape said dryly and walked out of the room, his robes billowing behind him.

When he saw that Snape had left, Terry let out a nervous giggle. "We did it!" he squealed excitedly.

"I just can't believe he didn't kill us for catching us being rather unprofessional," Harry said, still in shock.

"He must have wanted to, but our brilliance was too impressive to punish us."

"Yeah, that must have been it," Harry said softly.

Harry wondered if Snape hadn't stopped following him around. Maybe he wanted to see if Harry had truly moved on–he needed to see for himself what Harry had been doing with Terry.

He hoped Snape knew he hadn't though, that he was just going through the motions at this point. His friends helped keep him distracted from all of his emotions, from everything he felt toward Snape. It was getting easier to hide them, though, especially from himself. He just avoided talking about Snape at all costs. Whenever Ron would bring up Operation Happy, Harry would change the subject abruptly or zone out until the conversation was over. During Potions, he just pretended that Snape was a different professor, like perhaps Binns. Boring, but got the job done. He just hoped eventually he would become what everyone else thought he was: a hero in love with a great bloke.

Earlier that week, Neville had asked how he was. Harry knew what he was really asking for, if he had figured out how he felt about Snape. He couldn't bring himself to confide in Neville again. It wasn't fair to him, to have to hear all about how the savior of the wizarding world couldn't get over an annoying man, one he hated. Instead, he played dumb and talked about how much fun he had with Terry and Malfoy.

"I think we need to add in the bison flakes," Terry said, rummaging through his supply of Potions ingredients.

"Where exactly did the flakes come from?" Harry wondered aloud. "Are they full bison, or just part of a bison? And what do they do to the bison to make the flakes?"

Terry grinned. "Let's not ask that question and just keep it at 'bison flakes'."

Harry took the bag from his hand, counted ten flakes, and dropped them into the cauldron. It hissed and turned clear. "Well, wherever the flakes come from, they most certainly work."

* * *

Harry was in the Gryffindor Common Room, doodling on his parchment with his quill. He sat on one of the squishy couches next to the fireplace, always his favorite spot to go. He wrote in long loopy writing, adding in an occasional swirly q or feather. Looking down, he realized he had written "Severus Snape" across his paper.

"That bloody man," Harry muttered, crumpling his paper and throwing it in the fireplace. This was the opposite of what needed to happen. Something told him that subconsciously writing his secret lover's name was not beneficial to his moving on.

"Having trouble with homework?" Ron asked as he approached him.

Harry shook his head. "I'm just doodling. Not very good doodles though," he added. "Sit down," he said, moving over to make room for Ron.

Ron took a seat and leaned against the cushion. "I don't feel like we've talked in a while," he finally said.

Harry glanced at his best friend. "I guess we've been involved with our relationships," he responded.

Ron nodded. "Yeah. I think that's it. They're both so new, aren't they?" he asked. "Hermione is – amazing. I don't know what she sees in me."

"You're a catch," Harry assured Ron. "Trust the gay man."

Ron chuckled. "Speaking of which, what about you and Terry? How are you two?"

He smiled. "You know, we are doing pretty well. He's sweet, he's thoughtful, he's caring, he's smart, he loves me – "

"There's a 'but' coming, isn't there?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Harry answered. "I don't know if I feel the same way. I know that I care about him. And I know I _should_ love him – I'm sorry, you don't need to hear this. My relationship with Terry makes you uncomfortable, I know."

"No," Ron insisted. "If there's something bothering you, you can always talk to me. You know, sometimes, things just don't work out, even if everything seems right."

"But I can't just leave him. I want to be with him, I WANT to be happy with him."

"Do you really want it?"

"I do. I want so badly to be normal, to have a normal relationship. I know, a man in a relationship with another man isn't generally normal, but Terry is a nice, normal bloke. Why don't I love him?" Harry asked desperately. "I'm just going to have to stay with him until I do."

"No, you're not," Ron said, patting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You should talk to Terry, maybe take a break. I know that isn't what you want, but if you want to try to make this work, you should spend some time away from each other. Maybe then you will realize whether you want, him or not."

Harry already knew what he wanted, yet there was no way he could have it. There was no way he could tell Ron about it, either. He could share his feelings for Terry with him, but if he admitted that he was in love with Snape, that this was the reason he couldn't be with Terry – well, he preferred not to think about Ron's reaction.

"Thanks mate. I appreciate that you're here for me, even when I'm doing something obviously stupid."

Ron nodded. "I've done MANY stupid things before and you've been there for me. It's the least I could do."

Harry smiled. "Are you up for a game of wizard's chess?"

"I still can't believe bloody Malfoy taught you how to beat me."

* * *

"You want to use Veritapotio to help defeat Voldemort?" Harry asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Why not?" Terry asked. "Doesn't it force people to tell the truth? Wouldn't we be even more renowned if we invented the potion that helped bring You Know Who down?"

"Well, seeing as I'm going to be famous for either killing him or getting killed by him, I guess I don't really think about those things."

"I'm sorry," Terry said, putting his hand on Harry's forearm. "I just thought that if we could verify what we talked about at that meeting the other day– "

"I know, if we could find out for sure that Nagini was created as his power source, we could try to isolate her instead of him."

"Exactly," Terry said excitedly, giving Harry a quick kiss. "We should bring this to Dumbledore."

"Fine. Let's go and tell Dumbledore your idea. That way, he'll at least know what you're planning," Harry grinned and they headed up to Dumbledore's office. "Fizzing Whizby!" he said to the gargoyle, who moved right away, allowing them to walk up the moving staircase.

"Hello Harry, Mr. Boot. What can I do for you today?" Dumbledore asked.

"Terry thinks he might have an idea on how we can stop Voldemort."

"Oh?" Dumbledore asked, sitting forward in his chair.

"Well, you know how we have been working on the Veritapotio in Professor Snape's class?" Terry asked.

"I do," Dumbledore replied.

"What if we were to capture one of the higher level Death Eaters, give him the potion, and ask questions to verify whether or not the power source thing is true. Or at least information about where he keeps Nagini. Someone is bound to be assigned to take care of her."

"That is a very interesting observation," the Headmaster commented. "I will discuss it with the rest of the Order. Or perhaps you would like to share your idea yourself?"

Terry's eyes widened. "I – um, sure!"

"We should wait to make sure that the potion isn't lethal first. I know that Professor Snape still needs to do some proper testing on it before it is safe for anyone to drink."

They nodded. "Of course."

Dumbledore smiled. "Mr. Boot, you may just be onto something."

* * *

*ducks* Please don't kill me! I guarantee a happy ending! Plus, more Snarry smut next chapter!


	11. Broom Cupboards and Conversations

Warning for light angst, as well as some more infidelity.

**Chapter 11: Broom Cupboards and Conversations**

Harry sighed. Apparently, doing well at your work meant more work. Snape had given the two of them extra research, as well as an assignment to start the scientific paper they would submit to the _Potions Quarterly_. He stared at all the research notes he and Terry had done in the past few months. Citing all of the sources they had used and explaining why they chose certain ingredients was exhausting.

Snape had announced that Harry and Terry had solved the issue of the lethality a week ago. Most of the class had clapped, but Hermione glared daggers at them, jealous of the prestige they would receive. Already they were being interviewed by different magazines, as well as earning academic honors and awards Harry had never even heard of.

Terry received three full scholarships and instant admissions to universities around the world. He was thrilled with the options in front of him. In fact, a university in Japan had offered to give him thousands of galleons to research his werewolf project with them, complete with a Potions lab, as well as a working staff.

Meanwhile, Harry was just thrilled to have public recognition for something he had actually done, as opposed to just having a scar on his head. Maybe then Snape would actually mean the words, the "great Harry Potter". Several Hogwarts professors, including Selhorn, had mentioned that they were hoping to have an apprentice next year. Harry knew that there was nowhere else he'd rather be than at Hogwarts.

Luckily, having Terry Boot as your boyfriend also meant your grades would go up in other classes too. They worked through their homework for hours each day, perfecting everything. For the first time since he had been in Hogwarts, Harry was competing with Hermione for the spot of top Gryffindor student. All of this attention was driving her insane, mostly just flustering her instead of causing her to improve anything. While he felt bad for her, he secretly enjoyed it.

Even though he had Ron's support, it was still difficult for him to even think about breaking things off with Terry. He was just so kind, sweet and caring. He didn't deserve to have his heart broken like that. Ron had been understanding though, and did not bring up the topic again.

January had passed by quickly. Harry was shocked at how fast the year had gone by. In just five months, he would be graduating from Hogwarts and sent to make something of himself in the world. In times like these, he forgot that Voldemort was on the other side of those walls, plotting his demise.

February brought one thing he always loved though: more Quidditch.

It was the day of the match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Terry had kissed him for good luck and Harry went into the locker room to meet with his team.

They were a good team this year. If they won the Quidditch Cup this year, then it would be their fourth year in a row (with the exception of his fourth year, in which there was no Quidditch tournament) that Gryffindor won. Harry knew he had to win. Two years in a row as Quidditch captain, winning the Quidditch Cup for his House, that was something he could be proud of.

"Alright team," he started. "We've practiced around the clock for this match. We've lost time on our studies to win this game. We know their moves. More than that, we know that we're better than them. Now let's get on that field and show everyone out there who the best team is!"

His team cheered. Ginny gave his hand a quick squeeze and bounded out onto the pitch, everyone else following suit. He shook hands with the Hufflepuff captain, Zacharias Smith.

Harry mounted his broom and looked around. It was a little windy but not very cloudy. Seeing as he had expected to play in the rain today, he was quite pleased with his current situation.

As he rose in the air, he heard Madam Hooch's whistle blow and knew that the game had begun. He loved hearing the cheering from the audience. Looking around, he even saw Malfoy there, who gave him a small wave. That was one strange boy.

Harry watched as Ginny scored the first goal of the game. It was bound to be the first of many. After they had broken up, Ginny had thrown everything into her Quidditch skills. She was being scouted by several professional teams already. Harry was proud of her. She would do well as a professional athlete.

He continued watching the game from above, listening to Luna's rather interesting commentary. She was discussing who weighed more, Ron or Zacharias. Apparently, this had something to do with the cycle of the Crimpets, whatever that was.

The Hufflepuff Seeker was tailing him. Harry spun into a dive, pulled out, and flew across the stadium. While he was doing so, he noticed that Snape was there, sitting with some of the other professors. They made eye contact, and it was as though the rest of the world melted away. He could hear himself thinking at Snape, telling him how much he wanted him, that this arrangement was terrible. He didn't care about the repercussions or even the fact that they might not even be right for each other; he knew exactly what he wanted.

Unfortunately, all of this thinking about what he wanted ended up with him smashing into one of the boxes.

Harry blinked his eyes open. He was on the ground, watching the game happen above him. Several people were running to him, including Hermione and Terry. Professor Flitwick got there first, and did a quick check of Harry's vitals with a simple charm. "Are you okay?" Hermione squealed when she got to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I lost focus on what I was doing," Harry stammered, shaking his head to try and see clearly.

"Mr. Potter, you seem to be fine. You might want to look where you're going when you're on a broomstick," Flitwick said with a smile.

Harry sat up and grabbed his broom, which had fallen next to him. Looking up at just the right moment, he saw that the Snitch was fluttering about by Ron's foot. He hopped on his broom and took off, getting as low as possible so he could go faster.

He knew he was going to win seconds before he even caught the Snitch. The Hufflepuff Seeker was far across the field and failed to notice that Harry was heading toward it at lightning speed. When he captured the Golden Snitch, the crowd erupted in a cheer. He held it up in the air in victory. Ron high-fived him and hugged him with one arm as they sailed down to the bottom.

"Bloody hell, mate. You always do have to leave an impression, don't you?"

"Of course," Harry said with a grin. "You know I can handle it though."

"You've already suffered three concussions. What's one more, right?"

"Indeed."

"This one was pretty intense. Lots of people were pretty shaken up about it. Did you see Snape?"

"What?"

"Oh, I guess you wouldn't have, seeing as you were falling and then unconscious."

"What did he do?"

"He ran down the stairs and rushed over to where you fell. By the time he got there, you were already back in the air though."

Harry's heart leaped up to his throat. Snape had been concerned about him, so concerned that he ignored his pretense of not caring about him, and rushed to his aid? That meant -that like him- Snape was just burying his feelings. This was good. Or bad, depending on how he looked at it.

The rest of his team cheered and followed Harry into the locker room. They hopped up and down for a while in excitement. They were up by three-hundred points. They played Slytherin next – and there was no way that Slytherin could lower that margin by that much. Malfoy was the only decent player on the team, and Harry always beat him to the Snitch. Harry felt a sense of elation that he hadn't felt in months. There was something about Quidditch that just helped him forget everything else. It was fantastic.

"Great game, you guys. Practice next Tuesday night, as usual!" he called. "And I think a celebration in the Common Room tonight has been earned! Get on it!"

His teammates gave another victory cry and headed out for the festivities. Finally, alone, he turned on the shower, letting the steam encase him. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been to stare at Snape like that. He hoped no one noticed what had happened, at least what he had been paying more attention to than flying.

He turned the shower off; getting dressed, he stared at himself in the mirror. He was no longer a boy. He was beginning to grow hair on his chest, which had muscles slowly rippling down his body. Unfortunately, he was still quite pasty. He was in dire need of a good sunbathe.

Harry decided to walk out and put his broom away in the closet before going back to the castle. He noticed he had taken so long, everyone had left for the castle. As he moved toward the closet, he saw a very familiar figure walking in his direction.

"I'm fine, if that's what you were going to ask," Harry called.

Snape shook his head at Harry. "I had actually planned on making some sort of snide comment about your inability to stay on your broomstick."

Harry smirked at Snape. "It wouldn't be the same if you didn't."

"Where's your little eagle?" Snape asked. "You haven't been without him since you've been back."

"You've been following me?" Harry asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

"I would prefer to say I'm keeping an eye on you," Snape said, walking closer. "After all, the person who invented Veritapotio might have a lot of envious wizards trying to hurt them."

"Ah, yes. It's very important to have someone keeping me safe. You see, I'm a wanted man by many." Harry opened up the broom closet and walked inside. He had his own little spot in the back where he kept his Firebolt. He eyed Snape, daring him to follow him.

Snape obliged and walked in, glancing at the brooms distastefully.

"Have you ever really flown a broomstick?" Harry asked, watching Snape as he put his own broom away.

"Don't be foolish, of course, I've flown a broomstick."

"How can you not enjoy it?" Harry asked, admiring the brooms mounted on the walls.

"I suppose it has something to do with the lack of control I have. Putting my trust in a pile of sticks just doesn't sound like an intelligent thing to do."

"Yes, well…we all do things that aren't necessarily intelligent," Harry said softly as he moved closer to Snape. He could smell Snape's cologne, which had a hint of peppermint in it. "I could take you riding sometime," he suggested coyly.

Something seemed to click in Snape's head, he held up a hand. "Don't. I don't even know why I'm here," he replied and began turning away.

"Wait!" Harry cried. "What if – what if we were to just be – together in this broom closet for just a little bit? And then – we just pretended nothing happened? It was just me being foolish and that was that. Maybe even a dream."

"This is a bad idea," Snape warned, but allowed Harry to move closer to him, pressing his chest against his.

"I know," Harry answered. "But frankly, I don't give a damn."

At first they just held each other, running their hands up each other's backs and shoulders. Harry clutched onto Snape's shoulders and pulled him down for a deep kiss.

Snape grabbed hold of Harry's arms, squeezing his fingertips into his flesh as they kissed. Harry was in heaven. Why they couldn't do this every day was beyond his reasoning. Kissing Snape should be a requirement for his daily routine. As their tongues made circles around the other, Harry began unbuttoning Snape's trousers.

Snape pulled away from him. "I'm not shagging in a broom cupboard. I am far above this sort of juvenile nonsense."

"It's a good thing we are not going to shag then," Harry said, roughly pushing Snape against the wall, tearing Snape's trousers down and dropping to his knees.

First, he licked Snape's cock up and down, breathing in deeply his musky scent and savoring every taste. Fuck, Snape's cock was so different from Terry's. He tensed his tongue and let it flick against the shaft, wanting to explore every part of this man's body; once he was satisfied, he finally took Snape in his mouth. Snape let out an appreciative groan and dug his fingers into Harry's hair, pulling on Harry's damp strands firmly.

Harry, having gained much practice in the gag reflex area, deep-throated Snape, bobbing up and down vigorously; he wanted to show the older man just what he was missing out on by not wanting to be with Harry. Unfortunately, the sounds Snape was making were too much and were undoing Harry's resolve almost as much as Snape's; Harry unzipped his own trousers and began to jerk himself off.

He realized that Snape was staving off his climax until Harry could come too. A few more strokes and muffled cries from Snape and Harry was there, rolling out heaps of pleasure. He tasted Snape as he shot his seed, swallowing every last drop as if it was his prize for a job well done.

There was a bout of uncomfortable silence as both of them pulled their trousers back up and avoided each other's gazes.

"A very unwise decision," Harry finally said in a proper tone, knowing that this was his only chance to try and get Snape back and to make him his.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "You are a fool, Harry."

"I'm a fool who knows what he wants," Harry retorted, searching Snape's face for a sign of agreement. He found none. "I want to be with you."

"You realize you are torturing me just as much as I have tortured you?" Snape asked. "Everything I've wanted – you're just handing to me without a second thought."

"I've had plenty of time for second thoughts, Severus. I've had third – fourth – hell, even fifth thoughts and probably more."

"Then what have you decided about Boot?"

"What have you decided about Selhorn?"

"You know…I feel nothing for her. I know you care about the boy though," he replied darkly, never breaking eye contact with Harry.

Harry stayed silent. Breaking it off with Terry would be a painful experience, something he really didn't want to do. In films and in novels, it always seemed as though when a character was forced to choose between two people, one of those characters had an inherent flaw that allowed the protagonist to pick the right one he loved.

Right now, _he_ was the one with the flaw. He was with two people at once. He was a terrible, terrible person. Terry was going to be heartbroken no matter what way Harry broke up with him.

"I can't bring myself to leave him," he admitted.

"That's obvious," Snape replied dryly. "Whatever happened to your Gryffindor nobility?"

"It disappeared right about the time you fucked me," Harry spat back. After a pause, he tried again. "Look, I want to break up with him. I understand that he is perfect for me, amazing and all that. What I've found out about love is that it isn't perfect or even easy. I want to be with someone who challenges me, who brings out the fight in me. That's how I'm going to survive the next few years. _You_ are that person for me."

"Please don't get sappy with me," Snape said, shuddering.

"You feel the same way," Harry insisted. "I know you do. You've always been there for me. How long have you loved me, years maybe?"

"If you felt the same way I did, your relationship with Boot wouldn't have started."

Harry sighed in frustration. "I didn't want to feel the way I feel. But I've come to terms with it now."

Snape brushed his fingers through Harry's hair. He closed his eyes and seemed to make a choice. "Figure out what you want to do. Let me know what you decide. Just know, whenever you are ready – I will be there." With that, he turned, opened the door, and left.

Harry let out a deep breath, one he had apparently been holding for a while. The conversation he needed to have with Terry was harder than the one he had with Ginny. To start with, Ginny obviously didn't have what he was looking for. Terry did, but Harry just didn't want it.

* * *

"Congratulations!" Terry cried when Harry walked into the Gryffindor Common Room. "You took so long to get out of the locker room, I thought I would surprise you when you came in"

Harry smiled and accepted Terry's hug. "Yeah, I had a long shower. I think I hit my head a little harder than I thought I did when I fell. I just needed to relax a bit."

Terry brought the back of his hand to Harry's face and ran it against his temple. "I hope you're okay. Did you need to go to Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, I'm fine," Harry insisted. "I'm sure I'll be sore tomorrow though."

His boyfriend nodded. "Why did you fall? You looked distracted by something."

Harry bit his lip. "I was. There was some kind of shiny thing in one of the boxes. I was trying to figure out what it was, but then I smashed into the box before I could figure it out."

"Something dangerous?" Terry asked, clearly worried.

"No, nothing like that. It just looked interesting."

"You're getting distracted by shiny things. Should I be worried you're cracking up?" Terry said in relief. "Sorry, all of this stuff with the Order has made me a little paranoid."

"Don't worry. It's me they want," Harry said, taking Terry's hand.

"That's what worries me most of all," he replied, leaning in to kiss Harry.

Harry lightly kissed Terry on the lips and pulled away. "I need to talk to you."

Terry smiled and nodded. "Okay, lead the way."

The walk up the stairs to his room was excruciatingly painful. This was going to be the hardest conversation he would ever have.

They opened up the door, only to find Ron and Hermione on Ron's bed, rounding second base. Hermione yelped and smacked Ron's hands off of her. Terry burst out laughing and Ron grinned sheepishly. "I assume that my Locking Charm didn't work," he said.

"No, no it didn't," Hermione said, glaring at her boyfriend.

Harry looked at Terry, who was still laughing. "Well, this room appears to be occupied."

"We should start a schedule, mate," Ron suggested. "I know I've walked in on Seamus one too many times now as well."

At this point, all of them laughed. "I'll leave you two to it…and I'll lock the door this time," Harry said with a smile.

Turning around, closing the door, and locking it, Harry looked at Terry. "Let's go to my favorite spot. I want to show it to you."

"Where is that?" he asked.

"It's a good walk, out by the lake, but I really do need to talk to you. In private."

They bundled up their clothes and started a small blue flame to help keep warm in the chilly February afternoon. As they moved toward the lake, Harry pointed out that some of the wildlife were starting to reappear. Finally, they made it to his favorite oak tree, which overlooked the lake and was directly across from the castle. Harry felt like they were spectators for something, since he could see everything here.

He sighed and turned to Terry. "Let's sit down."

They sat in a spot under the tree which didn't have as much snow. The moisture felt nice against Harry's jeans. They set up the flame between the two of them, so they could continue to keep warm.

"What do you want to talk about?" Terry asked, taking Harry's hand in his.

Harry bit his lip. "I don't know how to start."

"Well, what is it you want to tell me? Then we can discuss it from there."

"You are not going to like this. I – I -"

Terry stroked his hand with his soft fingers. "Calm down. I am here. Tell me what you're thinking."

"I don't think I can be with you anymore," Harry blurted out. "At least, not for a while. I-I need some space."

Terry didn't let go of Harry's hands. "What?"

"You are, without a doubt, the best person I've ever been with. You are so kind and thoughtful. You say all of the right things at exactly the right time. We fit together perfectly. I'm completely smitten with you."

"So because I'm so amazing, you don't want to be with me?" Terry asked.

"I want to!" Harry insisted. "I just need some time to think about what I want with that. I don't think we're in the same place right now. I don't think that I – that I – that I love you."

When Terry didn't say anything, Harry continued on. "I've tried so hard to feel the same way about you that you do with me, but I just can't. You have been the most perfect boyfriend I could ever imagine. There has to be something wrong with me. I have to be crazy to let you go."

"Then don't," Terry said, his face crumpling up. "Why are you doing this? If we need to take a few steps back, that's fine. I don't want to lose you."

"But this is what I want. I have thought about this for a long time, and this is what needs to happen. We're not right for each other."

"Okay, so you've gone from wanting some space to 'we're not right for each other'? Do you want to take a break or completely break up? Which one is it?" Terry asked, eyes filling with tears.

Harry felt a lump in his throat. He had tried so hard to avoid tears; he needed to be strong for Terry and for Snape too. "I want to break up. I can't keep doing this to you. I don't want you waiting for me. We don't belong together. I like you a lot, I even love you – but I'm not in love with you. You deserve to have someone who feels the same way about you."

That was when Harry broke down into sobs. Terry wrapped his arms around Harry, stroking his back, tears falling from his eyes as well. They stayed like that for several minutes, letting out all of the sadness that was in their hearts. Harry felt guilt surge through him as he realized Terry was comforting _him_, even though he was the one who had just been dumped. He hoped that Terry would find someone who would appreciate him as much as he deserved it.

Harry started to pull away, but then found himself face to face with Terry. He gently kissed the other boy's lips. "I wish that this were different."

"We can still be friends," Terry offered.

Harry nodded. "I would like that a lot. But for now, let's try to keep some distance between the two of us. I think time will help heal this."

"I know. Can we still be Potions partners?" Terry asked. "I would be an idiot to let the best Potions student out of my eyesight."

Harry laughed. It sounded unreal. Something so pleasant shouldn't be around right then. "Let's stay Potions partners. If it gets too hard, though, we'll figure out something else."

Terry tried to smile. "Walk back with me?" he asked.

Harry stood up and linked arms with him. "Of course."

* * *

Author's Notes: Will Harry EVER get his happy ending?


	12. In Which Harry Gets What He Wants

Author's notes: This is where this fic began taking a mind of its own and started writing itself. Hopefully you enjoy the remaining few chapters as much as I enjoyed writing them.

* * *

**Chapter 12: In Which Harry Gets What He Wants**

As usual, any news in the subject of Harry Potter's love life was the talk of the school. Harry had heard many reasons as to why he and Terry had broken up: that he was really straight, that Terry was unable to perform in bed, that Harry needed to sacrifice himself to kill Voldemort and didn't want any ties, that he was having an affair with a member of the Ministry. Harry did as he always did in these instances, scoff and shake his head. He refused to give anyone anything they could take to _the Prophet_. The only comment he would make was that he and Terry were still on good terms and planned to stay that way.

Malfoy had tried to talk to Harry about what had happened, but Harry refused. If the git didn't want to hear Harry Potter drama, then he definitely wasn't allowed to hear Harry Potter breakup drama either. Neville had also approached Harry, clearly wanting for more details with the breakup, but Harry avoided him as well. He was in no mood to discuss his feelings for Snape yet. It wasn't quite time to bring them into the open. Hell, he wasn't sure if there was ever going to be a time.

It seemed as though Snape had just dumped Selhorn without much thought. She was relatively miserable for a week, her makeup constantly streaked from the tears she let out when no one was looking. However, she seemed to get over it quickly and move on. She had taken to starting a Dueling Club for her more advanced students. Despite the fact that he would enjoy it, Harry chose not to join, and instead, focused on his Potions work.

Terry had appeared to have moved on quite well, or at least was coping with the heartbreak Harry had caused him. They still worked well in their Potions partnership. In fact, they had sent in the first draft for their article the week before.

Meanwhile, things were at a standstill between Harry and Snape. Neither of them had made a move since their confrontation in the broom closet. Harry chalked it up to the fact that they were probably waiting for the other to approach them first. He knew the kind of man Snape was, that whatever they had would not be easy to work through, but dammit, Harry was frustrated. He wished that it were possible for the man to act his age and ask to do _something_ with him. He decided a little game was okay, and promised himself that he would not be the first to budge. He had been the one to admit his feelings first, and then to try and convince Snape that they should try to be together. No, it was now Snape's move.

That move happened in early March, just as they were starting several advanced Potions, each for healing, to be sent directly to St. Mungo's after creating.

"Each of you will be responsible for one type of potion. I will write a recommendation letter to whoever has the best potion."

The entire class' jaws dropped to the floor. Snape was a highly respected Potions Master, a recommendation from Snape would guarantee instant admission to virtually anything they possibly wanted to apply to. Everyone sat up a little straighter and hung onto Snape's every word.

"You will draw a potion out of the goblet," Snape explained and began walking around the classroom, allowing his students to take a piece of parchment from it.

As Snape approached Harry, he fought to keep from smiling at the professor as he reached in and took out a slip of paper. He looked at it and read, "Blood Regeneration". He sighed in frustration; it was a very hard potion, which required a lot of attention over several weeks. Most of the other potions in the room would be done by the time the evening had passed.

Snape leaned in much too close to Harry. "You will watch this potion as if it were your child, Potter. I expect you to be here well before the potion needs to be stirred and well after."

Harry froze. Had Snape given him that potion intentionally, knowing that it meant he would need to be in the dungeons more frequently? He looked at Snape hopefully, who gave him a subtle nod and moved on to the next table of students.

His heart leaped into his throat as he picked up the necessary ingredients from the supply cupboards and took out his glassware. He began slicing the trout fins, trying to put all of his focus on the knife other than the fact that he had the opportunity to be alone with Snape for extended periods of time for the next coming weeks.

"You seem unusually happy for Potions class," Ron commented as he crushed his porcupine quills. "Isn't that a potion that takes a long time?"

"You've clearly done your homework," Harry retorted. "Yeah, perfecting a potion that takes dedication would be more impressive than creating something that just takes a couple hours, right?"

"Do you really think Snape will write you a recommendation letter, even if you did create the best potion in the class?" Ron asked.

Harry stopped; he had completely forgotten about the whole reason for the assignment. "Well, it's worth a shot, isn't it? If I want Snape to respect me, I should probably start proving to him that I can do respectable things."

Ron shrugged. "Bloody good luck to you, mate. My goal is to make sure that anyone who gets a bruise will have the bruise removed and not break out in hives."

Harry laughed and continued working. He checked the information on how to create his potion. He had to come by in seven hours, just after dinner, to add in some lacewings.

Dinnertime couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

It seemed odd that just five months ago, during dinner time, he was dreading coming down to the dungeons to see Snape. Now, he was counting the minutes, constantly doing a Tempus Charm. When asked why he was so nervous, he explained that he had to create a very difficult potion while Snape was breathing down his neck.

The idea, of course, of Snape breathing down his neck aroused him. He tried to focus on his pumpkin juice instead, which he noticed had been several degrees colder than the usual pumpkin juice. Or perhaps he was just making up things to try and distract himself from his excitement in seeing Snape again.

He felt just a little guilty as he glanced over at Terry, who was sitting at the Ravenclaw table. He smiled and waved at Harry when he saw him looking in his direction. Harry waved back and continued on. Terry was a second thought to him now.

He wasn't even sure how he made it down to the dungeons. His brain was unable to move, but his feet clearly were functional. Gently pushing the door open, Harry walked inside.

"I'm here early," Harry said softly when he saw Snape bending over some cauldrons, running a finger along the inside to check how clean it was. He looked up and set his eyes on Harry.

"Yes…a half an hour early I see. You're following directions quite well, if I may say so myself."

Harry beamed at the obvious compliment. "I thought you might want to…talk before I added my lacewings in," Harry said, a pool of lust filling his stomach, walking closer to the man.

"The rumor mill says you and Boot are completely over. Or at least, most of what I've heard says that. They also say that you broke up with him due to impotence."

"Well, you know that isn't true," Harry grinned. "But yes, we are completely over with."

"Yet you are still Potions partners."

"Yeah, but nothing more. I promise," Harry insisted.

Snape glanced around and motioned for Harry to join him in his private office, just outside of the classroom. "Is this what you want?" he asked.

"No," Harry responded. "_This_ is what I want." He lunged at Snape and kissed him hungrily. Again, he jumped onto Snape, wrapping his legs around Snape's waist.

"Bloody insistent brat," Snape muttered, pulling away just long enough to speak the words.

Harry shut him up with another kiss, pouring out all of the frustration he had for the other man the past few weeks. Their lips moved with such synchronicity, Harry felt as though they had rehearsed this. Snape began kissing down Harry's neck, allowing his hot breath to caress his skin as well. Harry moaned and allowed his hands to run up and down Snape's back. Snape carried him to his chair and sat down, Harry still straddling him.

That was when Snape began rubbing himself against Harry. Harry could feel the outline of his prick through the many layers of clothing between them and started thrusting as well. Snape found Harry's lips again and enveloped him in yet another searing kiss.

For those moments, it was just the two of them. The classroom, Hogwarts, hell even the world, melted away as they moaned, their pace quickening as each of them grew closer to the edge.

Harry pressed his whole body closer to Snape as he moved back and forth, crying out as he was pushed to the point of climax. Through his orgasm, he continued to thrust, pressing deep against his lover as he heard Snape's low cries, indicating he too was climaxing.

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other and trying to catch their breaths. Harry nuzzled his face in Snape's neck. "Why did you make me wait for so long?" Harry finally asked, still buried in Snape's collar. Snape didn't answer, but held Harry tighter. "Really, you knew me and Terry were over weeks ago."

"I wanted to make sure that this was the right thing for me, for you, for us," Snape replied in a frustrated tone.

"I know you have trouble sharing your feelings," Harry said softly. "I'm sorry."

Snape pulled away gently from Harry. "You see, that's just it. You shouldn't have to be sorry that you asked your lover a question."

Harry smiled. "Is that what we are? Lovers?"

Snape threw his head back in exasperation. "Really? I give an inch you take a mile, don't you?"

Harry squeezed Snape's arm briefly and stood up. "It's the least you could do after ruining my trousers."

"I ruined _your_ trousers?" he asked, performing a quick Cleaning spell. Harry felt a brush of cold against his skin and then admired his now clean pants. "Come, let's go back and get your lacewings in. St. Mungo's is in need of this potion."

"So, tell me. Did you give me that potion on purpose?" Harry asked. "I thought we were supposed to draw our assigned potion at random."

"If you'd rather have a different potion, I'm sure I can arrange it," Snape said dryly.

"No, I'm pretty pleased with the perks of this one," Harry said, opening the door. "Where do you keep the lacewings?"

"Wouldn't you know where they are?" Snape sneered. "You've stolen enough things out of my storage cupboards to catalogue my ingredients."

"Now, that's just not true," Harry said softly. "I never stole anything myself. Other people always did it for me. I wouldn't know the cupboard that holds boomslang skin from gillyweed."

"You finally admit it, then? That you've stolen ingredients from my cabinets?" Snape asked, moving back to his desk in the classroom.

"Would I get a detention if I said yes?" Harry asked, finding the lacewing flies and began counting them.

"Yes."

"If that is the case, then yes. I am, in fact, responsible for any past, present, or future ingredients missing from your cupboards."

* * *

Things went on like this for a little while. Harry would show up early to see his potion, and he and Snape would spend some quality time together. They hadn't had sex again yet, which Harry was curious as to why. Each time Harry tried to tell him that he wanted to, Snape seemed to take control of the situation and would go down on him instead.

In between these times, Snape had finally begun opening up to Harry. He was thrilled with the fact that he now knew that Snape's favorite color was silver, that he grew up in Spinner's End, and that his favorite memory of his mother was when she took him to Diagon Alley for the first time (a memory which Harry could relate to with Hagrid). Best of all, they were on a fairly consistent first name basis by this point. He supposed he could have a man's cock in his mouth only so many times until he had to call the man by his given name, Severus.

The hardest part of their arrangement were the times when he, Terry, and Severus met together to work on the article for the _Potions Quarterly_. They had edited it to the point of perfection and it was set to be published the following month. However, it didn't end there. Several organizations wanted to honor them across the continent. Dumbledore had been very accommodating, giving them permission to go to a conference in Italy, along with some extra security from the Order.

Harry was finding it more and more difficult to be with Severus when he was near Terry. He was worried that Terry would look at the two of them and just know something was going on between them. However, this conference was something Harry had been looking forward to for a while. This was an accomplishment for him–something he had actually done that had nothing to do with Voldemort–that only he could claim credit for.

On the night they were to leave, they met up outside of the castle. Severus had given them instructions that they were to stay with the Order members or himself at all moments in time during the trip. Kingsley and Mundungus were joining them to help keep them safe in case of an attack from Voldemort. Harry was thrilled that he got to go to a foreign country with all of these people. While he knew that he and Severus would most likely have no alone time together, he could still imagine what a romantic dinner might look like overlooking Rome.

They had to Apparate. Deciding to do Side-Along Apparation, they split up. Mundungus would go by himself, Severus would Apparate with Harry, and Terry and Kingsley would follow. Harry acted uncomfortable that he had to hold onto Severus, but he grinned up at his lover the whole time. Severus shook his head, annoyed, but clearly amused with the boy, and Apparated them.

Harry hated the feeling of Apparation. It was worse than a Portkey, with the squeezing and suffocation. This was a particularly long trip as well, so he felt rather dizzy. Luckily, that gave Severus the opportunity to hold onto him for just a fraction more while Harry caught his balance.

They had Apparated right next to the hotel they would be staying in, which was where the conference was being held. From the outside, it just looked like a building being renovated, but Harry knew that something great must be inside. They opened up the doors and Terry gasped.

It was a grand lobby, with velvet red carpet floors and walls. This was clearly an old hotel, as portraits of the previous owners were all hung, greeting guests as they walked by. A group of witches stood at the front of the lobby. They motioned for the bellboys to help gather their belongings as Harry and everyone walked forward.

"Hello, yes, I have three rooms for Shacklebolt," Kingsley said in his low voice.

The lobby girl nodded and made a check next to the list in front of her. "May I see your wands?" she asked. Everyone obliged. She waved each one in front of an odd device, which beeped after a few seconds. Handing the wands back to their owners, she said, "Your wands are now keyed to your rooms. You just need to wave them in front of the door handle and they will open for you."

The group trudged up the stairs. While they were walking, Kingsley brought up room assignments. "Right, so Mundungus is acting as bait, if anyone decides to attack. We are claiming that Harry is sleeping in that room, when really, you will be staying in a room with Professor Snape. Boot and I will be in the room across from you."

Harry stared at Kingsley in shock. He patted Harry on the shoulder with sympathy. "I know, but it's only for a few nights, and it really is the safest thing to do. The last thing any Death Eater will suspect is that you will be staying in a room with Severus. Right then, let's unpack." Kingsley turned and left to his room.

Harry waved his wand in front of the door handle, and sure enough, it opened up for him. He and Severus walked inside the room. It was beautiful, painted canary yellow with royal blue curtains covering up the window. He admired the entire room, which was extravagant, yet quaint at the same time. Harry had never stayed anywhere so luxurious before.

He turned to Severus, who was unpacking his suitcase. Harry watched as he meticulously removed his bag of toiletries and placed them on the sink, making sure their angles matched perfectly. "Did you set this up?" he asked.

"I may have been the one to suggest that no one would ever think of putting us in a room together, not even the Dark Lord himself," Severus replied smoothly. "There was some discussion. I argued against it a bit, but Albus agreed with the idea in the end."

Harry grinned. "So we have two days of a bedroom to ourselves?" he asked, leering at Snape.

Severus dismissed him and started hanging up his clothes. "Don't be such a teenager. We have serious work to do here this weekend. You have several interviews, as well as a table in the expo. I doubt you'll be awake late enough for anything that might go on in the bedroom," he drawled.

"You have no idea what my stamina is like," Harry said.

"I do. It's less than impressive. What's the longest you've lasted, five minutes?"

Severus smirked. Harry threw a pillow at him.

"You're obscene," Harry commented and realized his things weren't in the room. "My suitcase is with Mundungus, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so," Severus replied, only half listening.

Harry pouted. "Well, I would like to retrieve my suitcase. What if there is a Death Eater outside my door, waiting for me? What would I do, as a helpless youth, I need the fierce Order member assigned to me to help keep me safe."

Severus stopped unpacking and glared at Harry slightly, but without his usual malice. "_Really_? That's the best you can come up with?" When Harry continued giving him puppy eyes, Severus rolled his eyes and started walking toward the door, grabbing Harry by the shoulder and tugging him along.

Severus walked quickly up to Mundungus' door, rapped on it three times, then called out, "Dung, we need to see you for just a second."

Mundungus opened up the door, already smoking something foul from a pipe. "What is it you want, eh?"

"The boy's things?" Severus suggested.

"Right-o. Got 'em right here," Mundungus held up Harry's suitcase and handed it to Severus.

He passed it to Harry. "I may be your watchdog, Potter, but I'm no mule," he glared.

Harry took the suitcase and forced a glare on his face. "Thank you for reminding me, _sir_." He was secretly giggling on the inside, eagerly awaiting the sex that was about to happen, if the look on Severus' face was anything to go by.

"Good night, Dung. Be up by seven tomorrow. We have an early breakfast before an interview."

"Bloody hell, what did you sign me up for?" Mundungus complained as he closed the door.

Harry followed Severus back to their room. He looked up at Severus expectantly.

After a moment of hesitation, Severus said, "Aren't you going to unpack?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't really unpack. I just take things I need out of the suitcase."

"Merlin, give me strength," Severus said as he lay on his bed.

Harry sat on Severus' bed as well, and crossed his legs. "Is there any room for me there?" he asked.

Severus moved over, allowing Harry to have some room. He lay on his stomach and looked up at Severus. "Are you excited for tomorrow?"

"Well, we are all basically celebrities now. Everyone who is anyone in the potions world wants to meet us."

"You're hating it."

"You know me all too well."

Harry leaned into Severus on the bed. "That's a good thing, right?"

"I suppose things could be worse," Severus said as he turned on his right side to face Harry.

"They really could," Harry commented and moved up to kiss his lover.

This time, the kisses were just as heated and filled with passion as before, but they were shorter, more gentle than they ever had been. Severus quickly removed Harry's shirt and began licking his nipples, which he knew drove Harry crazy. Harry could only lie there and enjoy what was being done to him. Next came the trousers.

Severus expertly undid Harry's button and zipper and slid them down Harry's legs. He made his way toward Harry's cock, giving it a kiss every few inches down.

Then, he did something different. He lifted Harry's legs and licked along his pucker. Harry sat up quickly. "What are you doing?"

"I'm preparing you slowly," Severus replied, licking him again.

Harry sat back, still feeling uncomfortable. This didn't seem like a safe, clean thing for him to do. And what was the point of –

Just then, Severus plunged his tongue into Harry's hole, all while nuzzling Harry's testicles with his nose. Oh, that large nose did have amazing uses. Harry gave a short cry and wiggled his bottom, wanting more.

Harry felt something else slide into him, next to Severus' tongue. It felt amazing, not burning at all. He realized it was Severus' finger. He was being stretched; he was doing the things that he had read about in the self-help books. Harry went to touch himself, but Severus swatted his hand away with his free hand. "Mine," he muttered, his mouth full.

Severus continued using his tongue and finger to stretch Harry. He inserted another finger inside of Harry, which angled its way straight up to Harry's prostate. With this, he cried out. "I want you to fuck me now," Harry panted.

"Not yet," Severus responded, inserting a third finger inside of him and removing his tongue, which instead licked across his perineum. Harry was reduced to a babbling mess, caught between moaning in pleasure and begging Severus to fuck him.

Severus finally slid his fingers out of Harry's arse and removed his own trousers. He brought his cock up to Harry's mouth. "Wet me down," he demanded.

Harry obliged, taking Severus deep in his mouth and licking up and down the shaft. Severus gave a pleasure sigh, pulled out, and positioned himself at Harry's entrance. On his knees on the mattress, he slowly slid himself in.

It was this moment that Harry enjoyed the most about sex, that initial feeling of fullness, of the lack of stress now, and the orgasm that was promised to come. It was a sweet relief, the answer to the question of all of that build up.

Then Severus began to move and Harry decided that was his favorite part. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment as Severus slowly pulled out and pushed back in, pushing against Harry's prostate again and deeper with each thrust.

Harry cried out, starting to move in sync with Severus' thrusts. This wasn't like the other two times they had sex. No, this was slower, done more properly, more fulfilling. Harry appreciated it; it showed that they weren't just slaves to lust–that there was something there.

Severus moved in to twist Harry's nipple. He shuddered as a wave of pleasure ripped through his body. The man moved on to his prick, and, watching Harry closely, began to stroke the leaking tip. Harry kept his eyes trained on Severus. He was looking healthier, looking less like a miserable ghost and more like a person, a rather attractive person. Severus had been bathing more frequently, so his skin was soft and clean. He smelled fantastic as well, like creosote bush, a plant they had recently used in class.

Severus began to pick up the pace, stroking the white hot bundle of nerves inside Harry each time. Harry knew that there were other guests next door, but that didn't stop him from his moaning babble of pleasure, ranging from, "Oh, fuck yes" to "Please" and "Harder" and much more. Each time he tried to grab himself, to finish himself off, Severus would slap Harry's hand away. He gritted his teeth in frustration. Severus was intentionally holding back to make this last longer.

"Please, fuck me harder, pull me off faster, oh please," Harry pleaded through Severus' thrusts.

"I thought you said you had stamina?" Severus smirked, making a point to thrust a little harder into Harry.

"I – oh god – I don't. I have the stamina of a rabbit. Please, just make me come. I want to so badly," he begged.

"Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I could do you the favor." Severus grinned and began fucking Harry harder, his hand working up and down Harry's prick with expert skill. Harry was only able to last barely thirty seconds longer and came with a shrill cry, emptying himself onto his own stomach.

Severus continued fucking Harry, moving himself slower again. He closed his eyes languidly, as if this were some sort of afternoon nap. Harry, who was beginning to recover from his climax, watched Severus as he brought himself to completion, eventually speeding up and moving harder again. He gave a shudder and fell forward, thrusting with every spurt of come he put inside Harry.

"I love you," Harry whispered after Severus had pulled out and lay beside him, trying to catch his breath.

"You don't have to say that. You know that I won't say it back to you," Severus replied, but pulled Harry into a hug.

"No, but I wanted to tell you anyway. I couldn't bring myself to mean it when I said it to Terry, but I do mean it now. I mean it completely with you," Harry shared.

Severus shook his head. "I know what you want me to say," he said slowly. "You know how I feel. I can't just say that out loud yet."

"I told you, you don't need to. Will you at least tell me when you realized you wanted me?" he asked. "I didn't realize it until that night in the dungeons, when you caught me taking those measurements. I was so drawn to you. It was like everything in my body was arguing with itself, screaming how it wasn't right, but yet it was." He propped himself up with his elbows. "Eventually, my heart won out. At least, that's when I knew for sure. I was in denial before that, and I really did try to stop loving you after that, especially after our conversation on New Year's. So, what about you?"

Snape stared at him for a long while, his long spidery fingers combing through his hair. Finally, he spoke. "After you came back with Diggory's body, when Bartemius Crouch Jr. took you with him to his office, Albus demanded that I follow you. I didn't know what was wrong, but I felt a pang of fear. At first, I thought it was just a professor protecting his student, even one he despised. Then, when Albus and I walked into his office and I saw him with his wand turned on you, I felt a kind of fury that I had never felt before. That was when I realized that I wanted you. It was sick and wrong; I felt disgusted with myself. I am STILL disgusted with myself…that I lusted after my under-aged student. Yet, I kept my calm for over two years. Those Occlumency lessons – if you had seen some of the other thoughts I was concealing from you-"

"No," Harry whispered. "It isn't disgusting. You did it–you waited until I was of age to do anything. Had I not provoked you, you wouldn't had done anything that night, even after I was seventeen. We never would have been together. I would never call you disgusting."

"I shouldn't have had those feelings for you," Severus insisted. "They were wrong."

"I learned a long time ago that you can't control who you have feelings for. What matters is what you do with those feelings," he said, taking his hands again and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "You didn't do anything to me until I was seventeen. It took me a little bit longer to realize my feelings. Sure, you dealt with your crush in an unconventional way – verbally assaulting me until I was near the point of tears – but at least you tried to avoid it. Let's face it Severus, we're right for each other."

Severus sighed. "I'm glad you're not disgusted by me."

Harry stroked Severus' face. "Never."

Severus made a gagging sound. "Dating a Gryffindor really does make you want to lose your dinner."

Harry smiled. "It's the best diet ever!"

"Are you excited for tomorrow?" Severus asked, changing the subject.

"I am! We have so many interviews to do," Harry said. "And we have our own booth in the exhibit hall. I've never been to a convention. What do we even do?"

"Just answer any questions people might have," Severus explained. "You will get sick of repeating yourself, I promise."

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Can I sleep here? With you?"

"I suppose," Severus said pretending to be annoyed, but then quickly wrapping an arm around Harry.

"It's just that you're so warm," Harry commented, leaning into Severus' chest. "I just want to stay with you like this forever."

"Sleeping with another naked person in your bed forever would have its advantages," Severus commented. "But for now, let's just deal with tonight."


	13. Terry's Revelation

**Chapter 13: Terry's Revelation**

Harry woke up to a knock on the door. After swiftly messing up the other bed in the room so it looked slept in and pulling on a dressing gown, he answered the door. It was Terry.

"Morning sunshine. You look well rested."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I fell asleep right after we got in. No interest in conversation, you know?"

Terry nodded. "Snape didn't say or do anything to you, right?"

Harry's mind was taken immediately to all of the things he and Severus had done the night before. "Nope. He walked me over to get my things from Mundungus, and then we just ignored each other the rest of the night. Just how I wanted it."

"Well, we need to get moving. We have that interview breakfast in about twenty minutes."

"Shit," Harry cursed, looking over at Severus. "That man is sleeping like the dead."

"How do you want to wake him?" Terry asked. "We could do something mean," he suggested.

"How about we just open the curtains?" Harry decided, and opened up the blue curtains, light immediately poured into the room.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Severus moaned and rolled over, covering his face with the duvet. "Not now."

"Professor, we need to go to breakfast!" Terry called, his voice much too cheerful for so early in the morning.

Severus froze and sat up quickly, keeping his body covered; his pale cheeks were reddening slightly and Harry found his lover's embarrassment quite amusing. "Boot, are you in here?"

"Yes," Terry replied. "We have twenty minutes! I'm sorry to disturb you sir, but we really need to be there!"

"If you would allow me to get ready, maybe I could," Severus muttered.

"Oh, okay. Harry and I will meet you down by the lobby."

"No, wait for us. Get Kingsley to come if you have to."

Terry looked at Harry expectantly. "I should probably change, too," Harry commented, looking down at the dressing gown he was wearing.

Terry laughed. "Right. I'll go back to my room, then, to wait for Kingsley." He turned and exited the room.

Harry turned to Severus, who was still clearly naked under the covers. "I didn't intend for him to walk in; he kind of just barged in when I opened the door."

"Children," Severus muttered, removing the duvet and moving to the wardrobe to find his clothes. Harry admired his body as he walked past, spending some extra time on his buttocks. Noticing Harry was staring, Severus crossed his arms. "Shouldn't you be getting dressed as well?"

Harry blinked and moved over to his bag, throwing on a t-shirt and jeans. Severus looked at him with a disgusted look on his face. "You're going to wear _that_ to an interview with a journalist from a world-renowned magazine?"

He looked down. "What's wrong with it?"

Severus sighed and rummaged through Harry's bag. He pulled out a pair of slacks, a belt, and a nice blue jumper. Harry took the clothes and quickly changed into them, rolling his eyes the whole time. He quickly washed up and the two of them moved outside the door, where Terry, Kingsley, and Mundungus were already waiting. Harry took some of the attitude he had given Severus during the clothes changing and continued as they walked.

"You're wearing my jumper," Terry commented. Harry stopped and looked at him. Oh right. The jumper he had worn to the holiday party. The jumper that Terry had selected right before they sucked each other's cocks. Just brilliant.

"It's one of the nicer things I own," Harry admitted as a wave of guilt crashed through him. He hadn't even thought about that when he packed the jumper. He just thought it was _nice_. Harry hoped that Terry didn't think he had worn it for some sort of significance.

They made their way to a small wizarding coffee shop, simply called Leo's. The journalist was quite nice, a man named Martin Sholvelov, who had an Eastern European accent. He started out with basic questions, first asking Severus information about what he had researched and why he had opened it up to his NEWT class, then moving to Harry and Terry, asking for reasons why they had made decisions for each ingredient and the research they had done. After that came an awkward moment.

"As potions partners, do you ever find it difficult to work with each other?" Sholvelov asked.

"Oh, no," Terry answered. "Harry is great at remembering properties of ingredients and I tend to be a better brewer. We use those to our advantage."

"I was referring more to your complicated relationship. You were involved romantically, yes?" Sholvelov asked.

"Er-" Harry said. "We – um – er –"

"We work wonderfully together," Terry insisted. "Despite our breakup, Harry and I remain very close friends and colleagues."

"But when you first split up, there was no anger, no fire, no – "

"I believe that this is a prestigious potions journal, not a sleazy gossip rag," Severus interrupted. "Any romantic entanglements should _not_ interest its readers." He crossed his arms, glowering at the reporter.

"You would be surprised what sells. Come on, Potter, give us something to color our pages with," Sholvelov insisted, ignoring Snape's pointed glare. Severus shook his head, while Kingsley looked anxious. Mundungus, of course, looked bored and continued to sneak some type of booze into his coffee.

Harry sighed and thought about it for a second; he hated reporters, hated how they followed him around like a pack of hungry squirrels. However, this could be a great opportunity to openly share some of his beliefs, to perhaps help wizards everywhere instead of just entertaining them.

"Terry was one of the first people who I came out to, before any sort of relationship had formed, before either of us had feelings for each other. I trusted him with secrets far before that. He even saved my life in an encounter with You-Know-Who last year. While we were together, I discovered that he was one of the most amazing people that you could ever hope to meet. Even though we realized that we were not right for each other romantically, he will continue to be one of my best friends. Just by being gay, he showed me that there is someone else out there like me, and he makes me feel more comfortable with myself. I hope that anyone who reads this article can see that gay or straight, you too can make a difference," Harry said with conviction.

Severus rolled his eyes, shaking his head as well. Harry didn't care; if he had the opportunity to try to effect change that wasn't killing Voldemort, he wanted to go for it.

"Right. No chance of you getting back together, then?" Sholvelov asked.

"The future is never set in stone," Terry responded with a smile. Harry looked at Terry questioningly, who just winked at him.

"Do you have any more questions for us?" Severus sneered, obviously losing his patience.

"No, I think that's just about it. I would love to get some pictures of you three though."

They spent about ten minutes in various poses. Sholvelov seemed keen on getting Harry and Terry together, making them appear more intimate. Severus would then do something to distract them, at one point, he even got in front of them, putting himself in the center. They eventually settled on a picture in which Severus was in the middle and Terry and Harry were on either side, grinning, while Severus tried his best not to scowl. Sholvelov took several shots of them talking over coffee, looking over some of their notes on the project. He thanked them and quickly left the shop, Apparating several feet outside of the building.

"Really, Potter? You had to go and make some big statement? You realize that is going to go straight to the _Daily Prophet_?" Severus asked angrily.

"So what?" Harry asked. "Why can't I use my fame for good?"

"They are going to spin that story to make it look like your love life is just as tangled as it always has been," he responded. "They will start poking around your personal life again. Do not get me started on Boot's comment," he added furiously.

"It's harmless, Severus," Kingsley said. "They are always speculating what Harry's up to next. They always will."

"Well then, don't we have a conference to go to?" Terry asked after a moment's silence.

* * *

The World Potions Summit was enormous. Thousands of wizards were wandering around hundreds of booths, all trying to sell or inform them about something potions-related. They were positioned in the front, off to the left side, with the other new potion inventors. Kingsley and Mundungus had Disillusioned themselves, but were within close proximity to Harry, Terry, and Severus. After several hours of standing around, discussing their project, Severus decided that he wanted to explore the floor. Mundungus followed him, leaving Harry and Terry mostly by themselves.

"I hope I didn't embarrass you or anything today," Terry said after a group of German Potions masters left their table. "I think I just got caught up in the moment."

"Of course you didn't," Harry replied. "You did what you thought was right."

"Professor Snape just seemed really on edge about it."

"You know what he's like; he hates it when I get attention and preferential treatment. He probably is just jealous that he has to share the limelight with me."

Terry nodded. "I meant what I said though."

"About what?" Harry asked.

"About things not being set in stone. I know it's been a few months, but we've both had time to deal with our emotions. I think we're both in a different place now, right?"

"We are," Harry agreed reluctantly.

"So what do you say? You've had months to think about things. Would you be interested in getting back together? I-I still love you," Terry confessed.

Harry played with some of the fray on the sleeve of his jumper. He wanted so badly to look at Terry, but couldn't bring himself to do it. "Terry, you know I care about you, but I was clear about how I felt when we spoke when we broke up. I don't want us to be together. We just aren't right for each other."

"I just saw the jumper and the things you said this morning at breakfast…" Terry trailed off. "Merlin, I'm such an idiot."

"No, no you're not," Harry insisted. "I'm sorry, Snape made me wear this jumper. He wouldn't let me leave the room in a t-shirt. I hadn't even planned on wearing this unless we were going to go to a nice restaurant. I didn't mean to mislead you this morning."

"I guess I just don't understand. We work so well together," he said, seeming to try to justify things to himself more than anything.

Harry stopped him, resting his hand on Terry's arm. "I know. But you aren't the person I want to spend the rest of my life with."

"Is there someone else?" Terry asked suddenly.

"What? No, there isn't anyone else," Harry quickly said, adjusting in his seat. "What other eligible bachelors are there at Hogwarts?"

"I suppose not," Terry said sullenly. "It just seems like perhaps you've found someone who you want to spend the rest of your life with."

Harry patted Terry's arm. "No, don't worry about that. Plus, you'll find someone so much better than me. I'm really not all that great, once you get past the celebrity thing."

Terry managed a smile. They noticed another group of scholars were walking toward them, intrigued. "You ready for another group?" he asked.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

For dinner, they had another interview with yet another potions magazine, this time, an American journal. Luckily, this time, the interview went quite well. Despite the American stereotype of celebrity obsession, this journalist was respectful and avoided most personal questions, only asking what Harry and Terry's plans were for the future, career–wise of course.

Terry explained his fascination with werewolves and his desire to continue studying them. Harry stumbled through his answer, as usual. He explained that he had some interest in becoming an Auror, but wasn't sure if that was what he wanted to do.

That was when Severus stepped in. "I would be most honored if Potter were to become my apprentice," he announced. "Despite his surface stupidity, his intuitive brain makes him a prime candidate for a future Potions Master."

It was silent for a brief moment. "You want me to what?" Harry asked in shock.

"You were unaware of this?" the reporter asked excitedly.

"I meant to ask him this weekend," Severus explained. "The opportunity merely presented itself here."

"Well, it looks as if I have more choices than I thought I did," Harry said, grasping for something to say.

The conversation continued on, Terry explaining more of what he wanted to accomplish. Harry dropped out of the conversation. What was Severus doing? That revelation drew attention to the both of them. He thought both of them were still keeping their relationship a secret. Obviously, if he were to accept as Severus' apprentice, they would have more opportunities to be together alone, but there would be consequences as well. Wouldn't there be rules about apprentice and masters behaving appropriately? Would he still want Severus to be his superior? He was flattered that Severus thought he could handle becoming a Potions Master. Frankly, he had never thought about potions as a strong point until the last few months, assuming that it was just Terry who helped him scrape his Es and Os. Looking back on it now, he had done a lot of the critical thinking involved to get the potion to work. He was just someone who didn't like to follow directions, especially ones from someone he hated. Once Severus became less of a wanker and once he started working with Terry, he enjoyed potions a lot. Harry couldn't decide if he was upset or not at his lover. He did some glowering at the man, but Severus ignored him.

Soon enough, the interview was over. They each thanked the reporter and left the restaurant. As soon as they were out of earshot of the reporter, Harry turned to Severus. "You were just going to spring this on me? Leave me to answer your offer in front of the entire _Potions Today_?" he asked heatedly.

Severus fixed his eyes on Harry. "Do you really want to have this conversation in front of everyone, Potter?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, _sir_." Looking at Terry's curious look on his face, Harry decided that was for the best. He sighed and looked at Kingsley. "Well, do we have free time tonight? It might be fun to explore Rome."

"It isn't safe," Kingsley said gently.

"Mr. Shacklebolt, there are thousands of wizards here. Are they really going to try and abduct us here?" Terry asked. "Please, you can come with us. Who knows when I'll be back in Italy again?"

The older Order members looked at each other. "I don't have a problem with it," Mundungus said. "I was hoping to stop by and see an old friend as well."

"Don't you dare run off to get some illegal contraband on the black market," Severus said sharply.

"Blimey, Sev'rus. Why don't you just bite my head off?"

Before Severus could respond, Terry stepped in. "We could go to the Porta di Roma," Terry suggested. "I heard they have an entire wizarding section in it underground."

Severus looked thoughtfully at Kingsley. "If we split up again and Disillusioned ourselves, I don't see what the problem would be."

Kingsley hesitated before agreeing. "Fine, but we're going to put traces on each other. That way, we will know exactly where the others are at all times."

Everyone nodded. Kingsley performed the spell. "All you have to do," he explained, "is think about one of us. Their exact location will come up. You can also Apparate directly to them. It goes for thousands of miles, so no matter where we are, we'll be able to find each other."

They practiced for several minutes, thinking about each other and getting used to the feeling of seeing the exact place that the other was at. Harry was reminded of the parents who kept their children on an extendable lead. After they felt confident enough, they all Apparated to the Porta di Roma shopping mall. They looked around at the busy highways, the huge car park filled with cars, and most of all, an enormous building, the Porta di Roma.

"What's an Ikea?" Terry asked, staring at the giant blue building as they walked under the highway.

"It's a giant Swedish store that sells furniture," Harry answered. "I've never been inside one, but I've heard it is quite large. They also have food there. Like, legitimate Swedish food."

"No kidding," Terry commented, unable to keep his eyes away from the building.

"We are going to avoid Muggle establishments," Kingsley replied. "Things will be easier if there is trouble."

Terry, who had very little exposure to Muggle things, slumped his shoulders. "Well, I heard that the entrance to the Mago Porta di Roma is just down here." He pointed to a construction site, which looked as though it had been abandoned.

They climbed under a fence and tapped one of the bulldozers with their wands. It quickly moved, just like the bricks in Diagon Alley, and an entire shopping center appeared beneath them. They walked down the floating stairs, glancing around in excitement. Harry immediately saw a Quidditch shop he knew he wanted to go into; it was far bigger than Quality Quidditch Supplies. He saw a sweet shop that made Honeydukes look like an old, abandoned store, and several restaurants that looked divine. There were several other high fashion robes stores as well. Finally, at the end of the shopping center was what looked like a club, blasting electronic music out its doors, which had hundreds of witches and wizards standing in line.

"So, can we split up?" Harry asked. "I want to look at the Quidditch store."

"I'll go with Harry," Terry insisted. "You all wouldn't want to go in there, right? The trace works, so if anything goes wrong, you'll be able to find us right away."

"So desperate to stay with Potter," Severus commented with a sneer.

Terry's cheeks turned pink, but held his ground. "We will be completely fine. You know we both know how to duel better than most of the wizards who are here in the Porta di Roma. We've been trained."

Kingsley held up a hand. Terry got ready to argue, but he spoke first. "Let me do a quick security check of the area, to find the area's vulnerabilities." He muttered a spell, which sent a thin jet of lime green light around the entire area.

After a few moments, Kingsley nodded. "Okay, the area is secure. Stay away from this entrance though," he warned to Harry and Terry's retreating backs.

"Finally, I thought we would be stuck with them all weekend!" Terry commented. "So, let's take a look at that Quidditch shop! It has to be at least twice as big as Quality Quidditch Supplies, right?"

"I always thought you were someone who dutifully follows rules and respects orders."

Terry frowned at Harry. "Harry, we are in Rome. I will follow orders without too much complaining at school, but honestly, who would try to attack us in a shopping mall? Do the Death Eaters even have the ability to track us?"

"Well, considering our interviews will be in the paper tomorrow, they probably will figure it out."

"Okay, let's go to the Quidditch shop. They have a broom in the display I've never seen before."

After ten minutes of exploring and admiring the brooms in the store, they decided to go into one of the clothing shops. Terry admired the clothes, explaining who the designers were and which set of robes were in style right now. Harry moved over to the clearance section, in which things still cost many Galleons each. Terry swatted him away from that section and moved him toward the section with colored day wear robes, forcing him to try on several garments.

Harry noticed an Italian boy their age watching them. "Aren't you – Harry Potter?" he asked as they approached.

"What? No, my name is Neville," Harry quickly responded. "This is my friend -"

"Justin –" Terry interrupted.

"My mistake," he said. "I am called Fabian. How long have you been visiting Italia for?"

Harry smiled. "We got in yesterday. We're here for that Potions conference," he explained.

"You don't look like Potions swots," he commented, looking the two boys up and down.

"Yeah, well, we're breaking down barriers and all that," Terry responded. "Attractive people can also be smart."

Harry felt uncomfortable with the way this man was staring at him. "We just thought we'd visit the infamous Porta di Roma before leaving."

"Yes, yes. Certainly, you must come to La Serrata. You look like you could get in easily," Fabian said. "All you have to do is be good looking, and, well, there you are."

"What?"

"The – how do you say – night club. They have good beer and music and dancing."

Terry looked at Harry. "What do you think?"

Harry hesitated. Kingsley hadn't told them they couldn't go into the club, but the big crowd made him nervous. "I suppose we could go. I'm still a little resistant to the beer part, though," he told Terry.

Terry nodded and turned back to Fabian. "Sure. Lead the way!"

They started walking. Fabian told them about his magical education, a small school in northern Venezia, and they shared a bit about their experience at Hogwarts. When the approached the queue, the bouncer glanced at them, waved to Fabian, and allowed them to pass through.

The first thing Harry noticed were the lights. Laser lights, strobe lights, and other colorful lights flashed across the room. Streams of colored magic were floating around the dance floor; people were dancing in the air. Beautiful girls were up on the front stage, dancing and playing with the floating magic, completely enthralled. The music thumped out throughout the entire room, playing some kind of electronic beat.

Fabian put his hand between Harry's shoulder blades. "Come, Neville, I'll buy you a drink," he said, his face uncomfortably close to Harry's.

Harry pulled back a bit. "I don't really want to drink. I had a bad experience with it a few months ago. I tend to be a bit of an idiot when I drink."

"That's what this club is for!" Fabian exclaimed. "Be an idiota!"

"No, thank you. Er, Justin might want one, though."

"Ah, but this offer was for you only…Neville."

"I appreciate it, but I just wanted to see what it is like in here."

"Well, then, you must dance with me," Fabian insisted, taking Harry's hands. Harry looked desperately at Terry, who grinned and shrugged.

Harry was led out to the middle of the dance floor. Despite the early hour, it was still quite crowded. He was shoulder to shoulder with other wizards and witches. Fabian held on to Harry's hands, but started dancing, moving closer to Harry.

"Um," Harry started to say, but Fabian moved in closer, putting his hands on Harry's waist. "Er, I can't do this."

"Why not? I know you find me attractive," Fabian said, not stopping.

"I'm seeing someone."

"Not that one over there, right?"

"No," Harry started.

"Well then, he doesn't have to know. I can keep quiet."

"Yeah, but I would know. And I love him."

"Love?" Fabian said, still holding onto Harry.

"Yes." Harry started turning away, but Fabian held on.

"Relax! Live a little, Neville."

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "Let go of me, I'm leaving."

Fabian kept his grip on Harry as he struggled. "Let's just have some fun."

"Get off!"

"Come on, just one dance. Stop being such a tease."

"I'm not being a tease! I didn't even want to dance with you!"

"Excuse me, I believe he told you to get off of him," a silky voice said next to him.

Harry looked into Severus' eyes, terrified. Fabian scoffed and let go. "I was just trying to get him to have a little fun."

"Well, if you consider holding someone against their will 'fun', I know some spells that will make it so you will never have the ability to have 'fun' again," Severus threatened, holding his wand to Fabian's face.

Fabian held up his hands in defeat. "I'll leave."

"Don't bother. We're leaving." Severus gripped Harry's shoulder and led him out of the club, Terry following behind.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?" Severus asked once they got outside. "We are here on a professional trip! Your judgment disgusts me! Potter, I knew you couldn't make an intelligent decision if your life depended on it, but Boot, I expected more from you."

Harry hung his head. Severus had just started to trust him. This could completely ruin their relationship.

"I didn't-" Terry trailed off. "He seemed like a nice – "

"Of course they seem nice!" Severus cried in desperation. "We're leaving. It's obvious that you cannot be left alone." He grabbed both boys by the scruff of the neck and Apparated to the lobby of the hotel. He marched them up to their rooms and shoved Terry into his.

He waved his wand at the door, opened it, and walked through the doorway. Harry followed suit, feeling much like a dog knowing it was going to be punished. He closed the door behind him.

"Sit," Severus ordered. Harry obeyed without making eye contact with Severus. He even _looked_ like a dog who knew it was going to be punished. Yep, he was definitely in trouble.

Snape didn't say anything, which made Harry anxious. After several very uncomfortable minutes of silence, Harry finally said something. "I'm sorry," he blurted out.

"You're sorry," Severus repeated darkly. "You have the Dark Lord chasing after you, trying to kill you. Meanwhile, any gay bloke that sees you instantly is attracted to you and tries to get inside your pants. You are practically a walking male Veela. You go out and meet someone who _could_ have been both and agree to dance with him. Why would I _possibly_ be angry?"

"I didn't agree so much as he just pulled me out to the dance floor and forced me to be near him," Harry tried to explain.

"Oh, so I should be grateful that you weren't excited to be dancing with him."

Harry blinked. So that's what this was all about. He stood up and touched Severus' arm. "I had absolutely no interest in him. You know that."

Severus narrowed his eyes at him. "Yes, but you are interested in Boot still, aren't you?"

"What does that mean?" Harry asked, his thumb rubbing up and down Severus' bicep.

"Shacklebolt told me about the conversation he heard between you two, about how you've had time to think about what you really want," Severus revealed.

Harry face palmed himself with his free hand. "Kingsley didn't hear the whole conversation then. I told him that like several months ago there was no chance of us getting back together. Terry got the wrong idea…that's all. I did the same thing to that idiot at the club. I told him I was in love with someone else and had no interest in him. I am with _you_ now, whether you like it or not."

Severus breathed a sigh of relief, instantly dropping his cold exterior. "I guess I am still not used to the fact that you actually want to be with me."

Harry pulled Severus into a deep kiss, pushing him down to the bed. "Absolutely I do. See, love is like a llama. It's awkward, adorable, and somehow, perfect."

"I think I heard that line in a porn film once. And what the hell is a llama?"

Harry scoffed. "I'm sorry I even brought it up. Here, let me show you how much I want to be with you right now."


	14. Terry's Realization

**Chapter 14: Terry's Realization**

"You never explained to me why you decided to offer that apprenticeship to me, especially in front of that reporter," Harry said, trailing his fingers across Severus' chest.

They were lying in bed, post-coitus. Severus was on his back, Harry snuggled up to him on his side.

Severus sighed. "I wanted to announce it in public, so you would know I was serious about it. Plus, I wanted to make sure Boot knew that you are mine." He nibbled on Harry's ear.

Harry leaned forward and kissed Severus' chest, which was relatively hairless. "Do you not trust me?" he asked.

Severus stretched his hand to Harry's face, stroking his cheek. "It just seems as though you should be with someone your own age…someone kinder."

"I did that, remember? And I still couldn't get you out of my head."

"I know," Severus admitted.

"Are there rules about apprentices and masters involved in a relationship?" Harry asked.

"There is a level of conduct we would have to keep to in public, but it is perfectly acceptable for romantic feelings to develop."

"That's good," Harry said. "I do eventually want to tell people. About us," he added.

Severus stopped; his dark eyes that were usually so closed off appeared surprised. "You do?"

"Of course," Harry replied. "I don't want to be in a secret relationship the rest of my life. I just need some time to figure out how to tell Ron and Hermione what happened. Then there's the _Daily Prophet_. We would need to control the media instead of getting it leaked out."

"So much to do," Severus commented. "It sounds very busy."

"You would want to, right? You want our relationship to be made public?"

"I don't want to turn into a circus of media and drama," Severus said. "But eventually, I suppose I would be amenable to others knowing about us."

A moment of silence passed through the room. "I suppose I have to say yes now," Harry said, looking into the other man's dark eyes.

"You would make an adequate Potions Master," Severus agreed.

"If _you _were to teach me, I would be more than adequate." Harry nuzzled into Severus' shoulder. "Bedtime, okay?"

Severus turned out the lights and pulled the covers over them. Harry knew how well that conversation went and was very grateful for it.

* * *

They woke to a clicking noise, Severus' alarm. Deciding that they did not want to be ambushed by Terry again, they set an alarm to wake them up early. Harry stretched, giving a little groan as he raised his arms.

"Morning," he muttered to Severus, who was starting to stir. All the clicking was getting annoying. He stayed under the covers, pleased with the warmth.

Severus waved his wand in an "X" pattern and the clicking stopped. As soon as it did, a knock came on the door.

"Bloody fucking hell, is he here AGAIN?" Severus asked, annoyed. He pulled up his trousers and threw on his wizard robe, crossing his arms as he went, opened up the door. "What?" he asked harshly.

It was Kingsley. "Good morning to you too, Severus. I just thought I would let you know that Terry and Mundungus went down for breakfast already. Unless you or Harry needed me, I was going to follow them as well."

"We're fine," Severus glowered. "Couldn't you have sent a Patronus instead of bothering me while I'm sleeping?"

Harry grinned into his pillow. It was nice to hear Severus yelling at someone else besides him. He heard Kingsley say goodbye and Severus closed the door.

Harry sat up. "You look…interesting," he commented.

Severus frowned at him. "What do you mean, interesting? Interesting is something someone calls something else when they can't think of anything else to say." He moved into the bathroom. "Oh Merlin!" he cried.

Harry giggled. Severus' hair was sticking up in all directions, some of it stuck to the side of his cheek. He found it adorable but was sure that Kingsley was confused at his state. "Well, it isn't as though you have anything to worry about," Severus snapped. "Your hair ALWAYS looks as though a frog slept in it."

"We should get ready. Apparently they set new records for early," Harry said through his laughter.

He rummaged through his things and found a pair of jeans with no holes and a maroon jumper that fit acceptably. He put on a set of nicer robes as well. He washed up in the bathroom and leaned into the door. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Severus scoffed. "I was ready several minutes ago. It was you who was taking so long."

Harry rolled his eyes, even now that they were lovers that man would never lose his prickly side. "Fine. Let's go."

They walked down the hallway, eventually finding the café in the hotel lobby. They greeted Kingsley, Terry, and Mundungus at their table and joined them. They discussed some of their goals for the day, along with specific rules that Harry and Terry needed to keep to.

They made their way to the exhibit, which had several panels that Severus wanted to go to. Harry and Terry were to stay at their table again, ready to answer any and all questions. Kingsley and Mundungus explored the area as well, Kingsley having secured the building the night before. After the incident at La Serrata, he wanted to make sure that no one could take Terry or Harry out of the building without them knowing.

"So how badly did Snape chew you out?" Terry asked after several minutes of sitting in silence.

"Pretty badly," Harry admitted. "He didn't bring up my father, which was a nice change of pace. What we did last night was kind of the exact reason Snape hated him so much. Being that reckless and endangering ourselves and others was really my dad's thing."

"Well, you look fine," Terry said, looking Harry up and down. Suddenly, he stopped. "What's that?" he asked.

"What's what?" Harry asked, frowning.

"It looks like a bruise," Terry said thoughtfully, moving forward to look at Harry's neck.

He clapped his hand to his neck in horror. Had Severus sucked on his neck that hard last night? He had been in such a rush to get ready, he hadn't even checked the mirror to see how he looked. "Yeah, it's just a bruise. It should be fine. I can barely feel it."

"It's a love bite, isn't it?" Terry asked, pulling Harry's hand away and stared. "Several love bites," he sat back. "Who?" he asked quietly.

"No one," Harry insisted.

"You left me to be with someone else, didn't you? That's why you decided you didn't love me; you loved someone else more." When Harry said nothing, Terry continued. "But who could it be? There aren't any other students –" he trailed off. He turned pale and a look of horror crossed over his face.

"Terry, I swear, it isn't what you think," Harry started.

"No, I think it is. You are involved with Professor Snape, are you not? Go on, tell me you aren't. I heard him call you Harry yesterday morning. I knew something was up, but this?" Harry cast his eyes downward. "And you were just sleeping with him the whole time? Was I your cover-up, so if anyone asked, you could just refer to me? And then you just wanted to be with him? So you dumped me and ran off to your real lover," Terry ranted.

"No, that isn't what happened."

"Then what did happen?" Terry asked. "Did he force you to be with him? Did he hold you down to give you those love bites?"

"We weren't really – together until New Year's. We had been together before that, but I – but he – we were just playing a game."

"So our relationship was part of that game?" Terry asked, putting his hand to his mouth and biting his lip.

Harry winced. "Not exactly. I wanted so badly to be with you. After the first time with Severus, I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't even realize I was gay. I wanted a boyfriend. I would have dated you without Severus, I swear. Then he kept coming back, like he was trying to tell me something. He was trying to tell me that he loved me."

Terry snorted. "Right. It couldn't be that you are the most attractive bloke in the school and that he just wanted you for that."

"Don't say that!" Harry said. "We admitted our feelings to each other on New Year's. As soon as I knew how I felt, I broke things off with you."

"I feel like such an idiot right now," Terry said. "I am completely disgusted by you. To think that your taste is in – him – makes me feel dirty."

"I thought you liked him," Harry shot.

"As a professor. Not as a bloody lover!" Terry yelled. "I'm leaving. I can't deal with this right now."

"Terry! Wait!"

"No, don't you _dare_ try to follow me!" he cried. "You deceived me! There is nothing you can say that will make that okay!" With that, he starting running, crashing into people in the crowd to get away as quickly as he could.

Harry desperately looked around for Kingsley or Mundungus. This was not good. He didn't blame Terry for being furious at him, but due to the circumstances, it wasn't safe for him to be out by himself. Voldemort could capture him. Yet, he didn't want to leave the booth all alone. It was important to everyone's careers that they speak to as many people as possible.

He could have slapped himself. Who was he, worrying about his career, when a friend of his was in danger, due to his irresponsibility? No, he was going to find Terry, and would not return until he came back.

He rushed around the table, running in the direction he saw Terry go. "Terry!" he cried, searching the floor for him. There were many business wizards ahead, and a group of old witches wearing pointed hats to his right. He ran in the direction of the wizards recognizing that it was closer to the exit.

The first place he checked were the bathrooms, and no one was in there but a drunk dwarf. He wondered briefly how he got in there and why he was drunk, but he continued on through the hallway outside the exhibit hall. Thinking maybe Terry ran to the hotel, he immediately Apparated to the lobby and ran up the steps, taking two at a time. He quickly waved his wand in front of the door, which opened to the room. However, there was no Terry.

Then he remembered the trace Kingsley had put on them the night before. What if it was still working? He thought about Terry, just as they had practiced last night, and saw a bunch of trees. He closed his eyes, and, thinking about those trees, Apparated again.

"You followed me," Terry said coldly.

Harry looked around. He was at a circular park, in front of a tall fountain. Children were playing games, while older people were sitting on benches, feeding pigeons and talking to each other.

"Of course I did. It isn't safe here," Harry said, moving closer to Terry.

"I don't give a shit," Terry replied, his eyes puffy.

Harry had never heard Terry swear before. He cursed himself for putting him in this position. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I swear, I never meant for you to get hurt."

"Well, I am. What did you think would happen, that I would be completely okay with this?" Terry asked.

"No, but I hadn't planned on telling anyone about me and Severus for another few months," Harry admitted. "I hoped that you would have had more time for us to remain friends. But then, when you told me you wanted to get back together…a part of me is glad that you found out. I do love you Terry, but only as a friend, as a brother. I am so sorry that I put you through this."

Terry gave a sniff. "Why? How did this happen? You hated Snape."

"I did," Harry said. "Remember that detention back in September? The one when he blew up a cauldron in my face?"

"Yeah."

"I left a couple things out. We said some pretty nasty things to each other. Things got physical. Then, they got _really_ physical."

Terry stared at Harry. "September? When you –"

"Yeah, I didn't know I was gay until I experienced…with him. And even then, I denied it for so long…I was so confused," Harry confided. "I wanted so badly for it not to be true that I loved a man twenty years my senior who hated my father, hated me. Then, on New Year's, when we were together again, I realized that my heart was broken– that it belonged to him the moment we kissed–that it would not be put back together until I was with him again. Maybe I've always loved him, and it just took this year to finally realize it. I don't know. Terry…I am so sorry that you got caught up in this."

Terry sighed. "Well, you are clearly insane, so I suppose I can't completely hate you."

Harry smiled. "No, I suppose you can't."

"I don't like this," Terry said, putting a hand on Harry's forearm. "And I'm definitely not okay. You have some serious issues, to work out with for yourself, as well as your relationship with…that man. While I could never have done what you did, I suppose I can understand why you did what you did. And I know you didn't do anything maliciously, to hurt me intentionally."

"You were the only person I thought of –" Harry started.

"Don't. I should have seen it before. You loved someone else long before we even started dating, whether you knew it or not. The only person you could think of was him. We aren't friends right now. I shouldn't have stayed so close to you. I hoped – I hoped that we could get back together, but now I understand why you denied me twice. We need time away. After this, I'll go to interviews with you, we can put on a front of being close, but I don't want to talk to you during any other class, especially Potions. Make something up, lie to your friends, I don't care. I need time away from everything."

"I want us to stay friends," Harry said softly.

"We will. But not right now. Give me a few months, maybe even a year, and I can be there for you again. But you betrayed me in more ways than just one. Just like you're betraying your friends now. Just like you betrayed Ginny."

Harry put his hand to his face and closed his eyes, tears finally spilling over. He felt arms wrap around him, feeling the familiar body of Terry's moving in closer to him. He clung onto his ex-boyfriend, the stress from the past few months finally coming out. This was all so messed up, he thought. Here Terry was, completely broken-hearted from this revelation, and he was crying into HIS arms. Again. Once he thought he was happy, he realized his happiness would make others miserable. His friends would be so confused. He figured Hermione would understand after a couple of conversations, but Ron would be furious, possibly never speak to him again. It had been six months of him dealing with this, and he had hardly shared any of what was bothering him to his best friend. Neville would judge him again, but at least not be surprised. Malfoy, well, to tell the truth, he would probably be pleased. And since when had he started considering Malfoy as his friend?

"I was going to tell everyone in a few months, after I made my announcement to accept the apprenticeship. Then we were going to go public. I wasn't planning on being in a secret relationship for the rest of my life."

Terry pulled away from Harry. "You want to be with him for the rest of your life?"

Harry winced. "I think so. No one else I've ever met can evoke that much passion out of me. And honestly, he isn't that bad once he stops the cruel commentary."

"Oh really?" Terry asked.

"Yeah, he's –"

Terry would never know what Severus was, as Kingsley and Mundungus appeared right in front of them. They looked wild, as though they had been surprised by something terrifying. "Professor Snape has been taken. We need to get you to a safe place now, before they realize you are here too."

Before Harry could say anything, Mundungus grabbed him and they disappeared from the park.


	15. Veritapotio

**Chapter 15: Veritapotio**

They appeared inside a small cottage, where Bill and Fleur rushed to meet them. "We're locked down; all of the spells work," Bill said to Kingsley as they brushed off their robes, somehow covered in dust.

"Good. I don't think we were followed."

"Will someone tell me what happened?" Harry asked, his knees locked. He had heard something about Severus, and refused to do anything until he heard what had happened.

"As far as we know, Severus was in one of the panels. We were supposed to meet him at the exit of the room to walk him back to you and Boot. The Death Eaters grabbed him just as we were approaching. We tried to use a grounding spell, but we were too late. They took him. I just thought…they would want you," Kingsley said. "We didn't put as much security on Severus, because we just assumed…"

Harry's knees buckled and he collapsed onto the ground. Terry gave a cry and helped him up, Harry clinging onto his arm for support. "You mean to tell me that the Death Eaters have him?"

"Yes. Harry, I don't want you to blame yourself. Our primary goal is to protect you, you know that. Severus knew what he was getting into when he joined the Order sixteen years ago."

"I don't bloody care! We need to get him back!" Harry insisted.

"We will," Kingsley said with doubt in his voice. "Remember though, Harry, Severus is considered a traitor by the Death Eaters. They are not happy with him."

"Well, we need to act fast! Let's find them and get him back!" Harry repeated, struggling against Terry, who was holding onto him still. "Let's go! What are you waiting for?" he cried.

"We can't just waltz into Voldemort's lair and expect to save him," Bill said gently. "We need to consult Dumbledore and see what he wants to do."

"Aren't I the one who is most important to the mission?" Harry asked heatedly. "If I want something to happen, I can make it happen, can't I?"

"Harry, why are you pressing this?" Bill asked.

"I can't stand to see anyone else killed!" he cried. "If one more person dies because of me, especially Snape…"

"He isn't going to die. They know how much Severus means to Dumbledore," Bill insisted. "They won't kill him until they realize that – "

"That Dumbledore will let him die, that he doesn't care about him, that the only thing that matters is that we kill Voldemort?" Harry finished, his heart racing.

"They don't know that we have all been ordered to accept death, that we are not to bargain at any cost," Kingsley said "We are at an advantage right now."

"Then let's do something while we still have that advantage!" Harry insisted. "I am not going to let him get tortured to death!"

"Harry, calm down. We'll get him back," Terry reassured.

"The most important thing for us to do was to secure you, Harry. You know that," Bill said gently. "Come on, let's get some food."

Harry didn't care about food. He couldn't believe that just moments ago, he was talking to Terry, sharing how much he loved Severus with him. Now, there was a chance that he would never see the man again. He threw his head back and sighed. This really was the worst day of his life, and he had definitely had more than one other contender.

He sat back up and clenched his teeth. There was no way he would let Severus die, even if it meant he had to go in by himself.

* * *

Harry lay in bed, listening to the dinner conversation going on in the room next to him. They had been discussing different ways to go into the Carrow manor, where Voldemort and his Death Eaters were staying. Harry was trying to listen as to where the Carrow manor was located, as once he knew that, he could leave straight away. Unfortunately, no one had said anything about the exact location.

That was when he had an idea. It was a terrible idea, yes, but an idea nevertheless. He searched around the room. This being a Weasley house, there had to be Dungbombs or a Decoy Detonator somewhere. Sure enough, he found what looked like a hybrid Dungbomb and Filibuster Firework. This would work just fine.

He quickly tapped it with his wand and tossed it out the window. A loud bang sounded, and he heard everyone jump. "Stay here!" ordered Kingsley. "Boot, come with me."

He heard Kingsley and Terry walk out, stepping cautiously outside. Harry knew what was next in the plan. He didn't like it, but he didn't see any other way.

Stepping out of the room, he quickly pointed his wand out at Fleur and cried, "_Stupefy_!"

She crumpled to the ground. Bill stood up quickly, but Harry was quicker. He Disarmed him, and rushed over, pointing his wand at his throat. With his other hand, he fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a small vial. "Open your mouth and stick out your tongue," he growled. Bill hesitated before obliging. Harry dabbed the vial on Bill's tongue. Still pointing his wand at Bill, he asked, "Where is the Carrow manor?"

Bill blinked several times and his face went slack. "Northern Westfolk, just past the cave."

"I'm sorry, Bill," he responded, and Disapparated.

* * *

"Malfoy!"

"Potter? Should you be in – oh I don't know – Rome?"

Harry stood in the living room in Grimmauld Place with Draco Malfoy, who was staying there for the Easter holidays with his family. Malfoy was sitting in his favorite chair, a tall velvet rocker, and looked very confused about the current situation.

"Malfoy, they have Severus," Harry said desperately.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

"Voldemort."

"Is there an Order meeting about this? Should I clear the room?" Malfoy asked dramatically. Even though he had stated many times he had no interest in joining the Order, his sarcastic comments showed otherwise.

Harry shook his head. "No one is going in to save him. Malfoy, please-" His voice cracked.

Malfoy stood, his robes whipping out in front of him. "Where do they have him?"

"At the Carrow manor. In Westfolk."

"Don't be daft Potter. I know where it is. I've been to their manor several times," Malfoy replied. "Do you have a plan?"

"I'm working on it. I need you to help distract the Death Eaters while I find Severus."

"You want me to fight a group of Death Eaters. That's all." Malfoy shrugged and crossed his arms.

"Look, I managed to hold off a group of Death Eaters our fifth year." Seeing Malfoy's face darken, Harry pressed quickly on. "My point is that you've nearly always outperformed me in school. You should be fine."

Malfoy puffed his chest proudly and then nodded. "Fine, Potter. Just know I'm doing this for Severus, not because I'm a 'good person' or I like you."

"I never had a doubt in my mind," Harry responded. "Now please, let's go!"

"I'll lead," Malfoy said and grabbed Harry's arm before he had a chance to respond, Apparating them away.

They appeared in a forest. "Where are we?" Harry asked.

"I didn't want to appear on their doorstep," Malfoy hissed. "We may have gone too far though."

Harry rolled his eyes. "_Point me_," he whispered to his wand, which spun several times and pointed westward. He grinned in satisfaction.

There was still a bit of light out, so they had no need to use the Lumos spell. However, his heart pounded as he came closer and closer to something that looked like an old mansion. It was here that he would find Severus, hoping that he wasn't too late.

There were two Death Eaters standing outside the walls. They sneaked behind them, right behind a tree. It was strange at how there weren't any security wards up to block people like him from walking up there. Voldemort must have underestimated the ability of strong-willed people, Harry thought triumphantly.

He leaned his head against the tree and took in a deep breath. Harry nodded to Malfoy, who had actually climbed the oak and was crouching on a branch, ready to jump. Hopefully, he had learned all of the things Selhorn had taught that year about reaction time. He quickly spun around the tree and cast several offensive spells, knocking the Death Eaters down and tying them up. He rushed to them and knocked one of them unconscious. He grabbed the other Death Eater's mouth until he opened it. Seizing the opportunity, he dabbed a drop of the Veritapotio on his tongue. The Death Eater blinked several times, just like Bill had, and Harry asked, "Where is Severus Snape being held? Tell me exactly where he is."

"In a room on the second floor. It is the room with no windows, just past the entrance to the east wing."

Harry repeated the directions to himself several times before he heard Malfoy sigh behind him. He spun around. "_What_?"

Draco scoffed. "You wanted me here to get rid of Death Eaters, remember? Yet here you are doing _my_ job."

"You want to do something useful? Check the area to make sure no one else is around," Harry hissed, then looked back at the Death Eater. "Where is Nagini being kept and what is the security on her?"

"She stays with the Dark Lord. He does not like it when she leaves his sight."

"Tell me when she has left his sight before."

"She cannot resist fresh meat. While she is a very smart snake, her survival instinct makes her weak. She has, on occasion, run off to eat a stray rabbit or human."

Harry nodded. "And what does Voldemort do when she runs off?"

"She is sneaky. Our Master often does not realize that she even left. We see her gliding along the grounds though. We keep her secret, knowing that he would be very displeased with us if he knew we let her get away. She frightens us."

"Cowards," he muttered, before Stupefying the Death Eater.

He gave a grim smile. Well, at least he knew that the Veritapotio worked. They had not yet tried it on anyone. A wave of guilt crashed through him when he realized the first person he had tested it on had been his best friend's older brother. Oh well. He would apologize later. He had to save Severus first. Bill would understand.

* * *

Harry and Malfoy found it rather easy to sneak inside. Frankly, he was surprised that the Order had not yet tried to invade this mansion. It seemed almost too easy, which kept his guard up. He had only run into two other Death Eaters; he gave Malfoy the task of quickly Disarming and Obliviating them. They only had several classes' worth of Memory Charm practice, so he hoped it had been enough. Malfoy reassured him that he was wonderfully talented at Memory Charms, and Harry prayed that it was true since Malfoy always claimed to be brilliant at everything.

They finally made his way to the second floor, moving toward the east wing of the mansion. He glanced around and heard footsteps. He dove under a table as the footsteps drew nearer and pulled Malfoy with him.

"The Dark Lord still doesn't want to kill him. He says that someone will come for him, that Snape is too valuable to be left to die."

"Don't you just want to snuff him out, though?" the other Death Eater asked. "Who knows how many of our secrets he leaked to Dumbledore."

"Doesn't matter," the Death Eater relied. "We follow the Dark Lord's orders, no matter what. Remember what Scarponi said."

"I know that. I just don't trust him."

"You just don't trust him because he's an Italian," the Death Eater teased.

"No, he's just new. We don't know him. We don't know what he's like. What if he is working with Dumbledore?"

"You seemed to like Vondoff alright."

"Well, he's different. We watched him kill a group of Muggles. Scarponi didn't do that."

Harry continued listening as they walked further down the hallway. He was close, and knowing that Severus was still alive helped him keep what little sanity he had left. As soon as the Death Eaters were out of eyesight, they walked around the table and moved along. Once they entered the east wing, Harry realized that this was where all prisoners were kept. Death Eaters were walking by at regular intervals, screams of pain were heard in various rooms, from people either being tortured or wanting to leave. Harry tried to ignore the screams as he threw his Invisibility Cloak around him and Malfoy.

"Skym, we need you down by the courtyard! We just found Pinegar and Zattarain tied up and unconscious!"

"Those idiots," Skym muttered, running down the hallway, passing Harry within inches.

So they knew someone had tried to enter the building. How long did he have until they realized he was after Severus? He continued on quickly, finally finding the room Pinegar had told him about.

A simple Unlocking charm did the trick. He flung the door open and took off his cloak, to find Severus sitting on the floor in a corner. When he saw Harry and Malfoy standing in the doorway, he stood up quickly.

"How did you get here?" he asked, glancing between them. "We were told not to go in on rescue missions -" he trailed off. "You little wankers, you are by yourselves, aren't you?"

Harry smiled and nodded. "I refuse to lose you."

Severus walked up to him and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"No. I came here to kill Voldemort."

"No, you didn't."

"He captured MY boyfriend. He will die."

Severus shook his head impatiently. "This is not part of the plan. We need to get out of here to work out what Dumbledore wants. If you bollocks this up, who knows when we will get a chance to get rid of him?"

"Yes, but that's why I'm here. I'm the only one who can kill him, aren't I? What good is waiting when I'm already here and I already know how to kill him?"

"Have you verified that Nagini houses his soul?" Severus asked, narrowing his eyes. "As far as I knew, that was just speculation."

"No, but one of the Death Eaters just as good as told me. By the way, Veritapotio works QUITE well."

"Harry, don't do this. We need to work with the Order."

"I'm sick of working with the Order. I know what I want to do and I'm going to do it, whether you like it or not."

"I suppose I should come along then, to keep you safe."

"Oh, yes. Absolutely you should," Harry replied, lacing his fingers with Severus'. "I would hate for you to be ambushed trying to leave."

Severus smirked and they started running down the hallway. "Should we release everyone else?" Harry asked.

"We need to be as stealthy as possible. We can't deal with running with twenty or thirty people."

"Well, they could run away and distract everyone and we could go kill him," Harry suggested.

"Not to interrupt this lovely reunion, but perhaps I could help lead the unarmed droves," Malfoy interjected.

"That isn't a bad idea," Severus agreed. "Fine, let's do it, but we need to be quick about it."

They quickly opened all of the doors, whispering instructions on how to get out, encouraging them to run. They told them where to find their wands as well. There were several Muggles as well, who they were less comfortable letting out, but let them go nonetheless. No one needed to be told a second time, and they all took off down the hallway, Malfoy proudly leading the way.

"Where did you say the Dark Lord housed Nagini?" Severus asked.

"That I'm not completely sure of," Harry admitted. "The Death Eater I captured told me that Voldemort kept Nagini with her at all points in time, except for when she wanted to eat something. I figured I could use myself as bait and lure her out of the manor, then kill her."

"That is your plan," Severus stated, rather than asked. "Use yourself as bait and kill the snake."

"Well, yes. Why, did you have a better plan?"

"I have no plan," Severus responded. "That would be why I wanted to get back to an Order safe house."

"You can go if you want," Harry bit out. "I think my plan will work."

"Yes, because your plans always work without a hitch."

"I didn't say there wouldn't be problems. I'm hoping that the years of training and practice at Hogwarts will help me deal with them."

Before Severus could answer him, they heard Voldemort's voice resounding throughout the manor. "Prisoners have escaped. There are unwelcome guests in this house. Find them and bring them to me."

"Well, at least they don't know who we are," Severus commented to Harry.

"What if we were to Transfigure our clothes to look like Death Eater robes and masks? Anyone just glancing at us wouldn't be able to tell it was us."

Severus stared at Harry. "When did you actually start using your brain?" he asked.

"Around the same time you started fucking me senseless," Harry replied, and Transfigured his clothes, putting the Death Eater mask around his face. Severus followed suit. They looked at each other. "Okay, that looks believable," Harry commented. "Let's go."

He and Severus took off, tearing around corners in the manor, searching for the room Voldemort might be in. "We should split up," Severus suggested. "Here, I'll take this end of the hallway and you start over there," he motioned. "Use the tracing spell every minute or so to make sure that we're both safe."

Harry hesitated. "I don't want to lose you again," he said softly.

"You won't. We'll both be here, and we will check in with each other as needed. That way, we can cover more ground."

He nodded. "Okay," Harry said, agreeing with him. There was no way that the two of them could find Voldemort together. Even if they did, Harry would be too on edge to do anything, knowing how close Severus was to him.

Severus rushed to Harry, pulling off their masks quickly, and kissed him deeply. "I know I haven't been able to say -"

"Shut up," Harry said. "I know what you're going to say, and I don't need to hear it. Tell me later, after we've rid the world of the biggest scumbag to ever live."

Grinning like an idiot, Harry pulled away and took off down the other corridor. It was a dark section of the house, with few torches lighting up the hallway.

"Hello, Neville," he heard a man with an Italian accent say.

"Fabian," Harry commented. "So you must be Scarponi."

He laughed, his dark hair moving in front of his face. "I am. Honestly, did you really think I wouldn't recognize the Boy Who Lived?" he asked, his voice harsh.

"Clever," Harry said, holding onto his wand. "So, tell me, were you really trying to get into my pants, or just wanted to capture me and bring me to your master?"

"Couldn't it be both?" Fabian asked with a cold smile. "But then your lover rushed to the scene to save you, didn't he?"

"Lover?"

"I saw the raw anger on his face, the fury in his voice. He was marking his territory. I decided I could kill two birds with one stone…the traitor….and the Chosen One. You've fallen right into our trap."

"Here's the thing. I didn't fall into anything," Harry responded, and shot a curse at Fabian, who easily deflected it.

"Now, now, we can't have that," Fabian said. "You know, it doesn't have to be like this. I'm sure the Dark Lord will let you live if you were to join us. He doesn't want to waste valuable talent like you."

"Keep out of it, Scarponi," Harry said, glowering at him. "We've been enemies since I was an infant…literally. There is no way I would ever join forces with Voldemort."

Fabian winced at his master's name. "If that's how you want it…so mote it be." With that, he sent a curse at Harry, who immediately put up a Shield Charm.

They dueled for several minutes, dancing around the corridor as they shot beams of light at each other, Harry with his eyes narrowed under the Death Eater mask, Fabian lazily waving his wand. Neither seemed to be able to land a hit.

"Give it up, Potter!" he called. "I could summon him here right now and it would be over!"

"Why don't you go ahead and do that, then?" Harry asked in a low voice.

"It wouldn't be half as fun as taking you out first!"

"Like you took me out to La Serrata?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Oh yes…but with you unconscious."

"Going with date rape. You sound like a real catch."

"It's a shame you recognized it after it was too late. You know, I did like you. I didn't think I would, after hearing all of those bad things about you, but you really are something. It's a pity I'm going to kill you right now," Fabian said, jabbing his wand to cast another curse at Harry, who had to duck and roll on the carpet. His wand fell behind him. Horrified, he tried to reach for it to block the next curse.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" he heard behind him.

This was it. He was too slow. The curse would hit him any minute and kill him. He would never see Severus again. He closed his eyes and waited for the light to hit him.

He didn't feel any pain. Opening his eyes, Severus was looking straight at him.

"So this is where I begin my afterlife?" Harry asked. "Not bad, I guess."

"No, you dolt, it's where Scarponi begins his," Severus responded, pulling Harry up in a tangle of robes.

He looked over and saw Fabian crumpled on the ground, a look of shock on his face as his final expression.

"You killed him?"

"No, I took him out to dinner," Severus responded. "He was going to kill you. What else was I supposed to do?"

"I had him," Harry insisted, but wrapped his arms around Severus anyway. Thank Merlin for that tracing spell. "Did you find where Nagini and Voldemort are?" he asked.

Severus returned the hug. "No, I looked across the whole section and I didn't see them. Then when I did that spell, I saw that Fabian was well on his way to killing you himself."

"Okay, well I think we just have the top floor left. Let's find them so we can get home. I think that since we saved each other's life, we've got some serious shagging to do."

"Is that all you think about?"

Harry turned to Severus with an eyebrow raised. "I'm seventeen. That's _all_ I think about, remember?"

Severus snorted. They walked up the long staircase to the top story. They glanced around and turned to the left side of the hallway.

"Remember, we need to lure Nagini out," Harry said quietly.

"Of course I remember," Severus said impatiently. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"I just wanted to make sure," Harry said, raising his hands in the air.

"Fine then. We'll get the bloody snake out of there as soon as we see it. Or it sees us," Severus added.

They heard a sound coming from a room two doors down. Severus walked on the other side of the doorway and Harry peered around it.

There they were, Voldemort and Nagini, as evil-looking as ever. He was sitting in a chair toward the fireplace, while she sat curled up by the doorway. Harry stared at the snake and whispered in Parseltongue, "Come and get me."

Nagini's head perked up and she sniffed the air. She glanced at her master, then the doorway, where Harry had Transfigured a chair into a rabbit, which was beginning to hop away. Silently, Nagini unraveled herself and slid through the doorway, chasing after the rabbit. Harry motioned to Severus to indicate for him to follow her. He nodded, and pursued the giant snake as she crept down the staircase.

Harry stood there, waiting for Severus' cue that he had, indeed, killed the snake. Before he could do that, he felt his body moving inside the room, definitely against his will.

"Ah, Harry Potter. Come to kill me, I presume?" Voldemort's cold voice asked, a grin forming on his face.

Harry glared at him. "I have," he responded.

"Why, then, were you peeking outside the room like a mouse?"

"Just waiting," Harry replied, reaching for his wand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Voldemort said. "I have perfected the Imperius Curse, you see. I can bend you to my will no matter what."

"I would like to see you try," Harry taunted.

"How else did you move so effortlessly into my room? I brought you inside purely by suggestion. Sit down and eat a biscuit," Voldemort said.

He hadn't noticed before the gentle strokes along his back, which he immediately recognized as Severus'. "Go sit down," Severus urged, his soft voice causing Harry to close his eyes.

He turned. He wasn't there. Yet, his mind knew that Severus wanted Harry more than anything to sit down and eat a biscuit. He obliged.

"What -" Harry started.

"It's the curse I've been working on for months. The researchers at the Ministry helped me out a bit, yes, but I finally perfected it. It takes everything you love, like Amortentia does, and, using that, it urges you to follow the caster's directions, like Imperius. Isn't it wonderful? Do say yes."

Harry again heard the soft voice of Severus, along with his smell. That was when Harry realized something. "It is," Harry said. "You've just forgotten one thing, Tom."

"What is that?" he asked.

"I am immune to the Imperius Curse. If I don't want to do something, I don't do it."

"But see, this is the beauty of my new charm. People you can't say no to tell you to do it, instead of just putting yourself in a relaxed state."

"I hear my boyfriend telling me what to do," Harry said, standing up and throwing the biscuit on the ground. "And honestly, I've never listened to him. I don't plan on starting now."

Voldemort looked outraged. "Come to me," he hissed.

"No," Harry replied easily. "Looks like I'm out from under your thrall."

Suddenly, Voldemort gave a loud shriek and fell off the chair. "Nagini – " he choked, grasping the desk to pull himself back up, his eyes darting around the room. "Where – how -"

"I'm going to assume you just realized Severus killed your precious snake, your power center. Hadn't you concealed a bit of your soul inside the snake, you know, in case some pesky kid decided to try and kill you?" Harry asked.

"You," Voldemort growled, and turned his wand on Harry.

He barely had time to deflect the curse the wizard sent to him. "Come out, Potter. Come out and die. You may have killed my snake, but you still have to deal with me."

Harry knew that he had very little time. Voldemort was still uneasy after learning that someone managed to kill his precious Nagini. That time was surely to run out quickly. He glanced around, trying to figure out the best way to attack.

A sword sat on the bookcase, displayed as some trophy after killing someone. Well, he shrugged, if he couldn't muster a strong enough Avada Kedavra, surely, a sword through the heart would do the trick. But how to get to it? It was clear across the room. Maybe distract him briefly, to give him just enough time to race across and grab it? That still meant he'd need his wand out, ready to give him protection from the killing curse that was sure to follow as soon as Voldemort knew his location.

Harry sent out a Patronus, which he had instructed to cover Voldemort's vision. Through his sudden cries, Harry knew it had worked and he jumped across the room, grabbing the sword. He dodged a blast of green light, cocked his arm back, and plunged the sword through Voldemort's heart. He surprised himself with how easily it went through, staring as Voldemort looked down with a blank look.

"You killed me with a Muggle weapon," Voldemort said dully.

"Rather fitting, isn't it?" Harry asked harshly. "I know that was steeped in basilisk venom as well. You're dead," he said, and twisted the sword as he pulled it out.

Voldemort clutched his wound, staggering toward Harry. "Someone else will come."

"And I'll kill him too, if I need to," Harry said, staring at the sword. "Blood, Tom Riddle, will always flow out of a human, no matter how twisted they are."

He collapsed to the ground, dead. Harry's knees gave way and he too fell over, the sword clattering down next to him.

"Harry!" Severus cried.

"You're not just a part of Voldemort's new and improved Imperius Curse?" Harry asked, leaning his head back.

"No, you dolt. I'm right here," Severus said, picking up his lover easily. He glanced at the very dead Dark Lord. "I see it worked."

Harry looked at Severus, who, apart from several scratches across his face and arms, looked fine. "Yeah. You took care of Nagini, and I struck," Harry replied. "I feel a little numb. I should be thrilled, but I can't really feel anything right now."

"Can you feel this?" Severus asked, pulling him into a kiss. Harry gave a little moan into his mouth as their tongues touched.

The kiss ended all too soon. "Mmmm yeah I guess I can feel that," Harry grinned and gave him a chaste kiss.

"Let's get out of here. We need to contact Dumbledore to send more Order members in to arrest these Death Eaters. I Stunned as many as I could on my way back here, but there are more. They will very quickly know what happened."

Harry nodded, and they Disapparated into the night.


	16. The Whole Story

**Chapter 16: The Whole Story**

The Death Eaters were quickly rounded up. Harry didn't participate in it, as he was being evaluated by Madam Pomfrey, who wouldn't even let him stand up. She kept muttering things like, "Seventeen years old and he stabbed a man through the chest," and "Too fragile." It was too much for him to handle. Finally, he demanded that she leave him alone so he could sleep. Unfortunately, Malfoy lying in the bed next to him, imitated Madam Pomfrey's shrill voice until Harry set a Silencing Charm on him.

The Minister of Magic, a man named Harvey Plinkard, visited Harry in the Hospital Wing, to congratulate him on his victory against Voldemort, sending him an invitation to a celebration a week from now. Harry thanked the man, and said that if he was feeling better, he would most definitely be in attendance.

Dumbledore was, to no one's surprise, angry with Harry. The fact that he had left without so much as a warning was what upset him the most, but he was glad that he was still alive. That seemed to be the sentiment of most of the Order members who had come through the doors to visit him, including Terry and Bill. Harry apologized over and over again to Bill, insisting that he was desperate and needed to be let go to save Severus that night. Bill nodded and looked at Harry curiously. "I would have done the same for Fleur," he said, winking at Harry.

Though he didn't say more, Harry knew he must have been referring to his and Severus' relationship. Knowing that at least one person approved of them made him feel better.

Severus had not yet come to visit him in the Hospital Wing. Perhaps it was because they both knew that the moment they set eyes on each other, everyone who was in the room with them would know their secret. Somehow, Harry didn't care anymore. Almost losing the person he loved, then nearly dying himself, gave him a new perspective on life. He didn't give a damn what anyone else thought; he loved Severus and that was all that mattered.

After several days of being evaluated and stared at by politicians, Healers, and adoring fans, Harry was cleared to leave. The first thing he did was seek out Ron and Hermione, who were sitting on Ron's bed (not snogging, thank Merlin).

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed and threw her arms around him.

Harry returned the hug, and pulled away. He sat on the bed and looked at his best friends. "I need to tell you what happened," he started.

"Well, you told us everything, about how Malfoy joined you, Snape killed Nagini and you killed You Know Who," Ron said. "You'll surely earn an Order of Merlin, First Class!"

"No, I need to tell you everything that happened this year. You aren't going to like it," he said.

"Harry, you can tell us anything," Hermione said, her voice filled with concern.

"I know. Um, Snape and I – we're – we're – um – in love."

"Excuse me?" Ron asked.

"We've been together since early February. Well, before that. We started – um- getting intimate in…September."

"What?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"We kind of just fell in love?" Harry finished.

"Mate, we're going to need a bigger explanation than that," Ron said, rubbing his eyes. "If you're bloody in love with Snape, you've got to do better than that for me to be okay with this."

Harry smiled and drew a deep breath. "Okay, let me start from the beginning."

* * *

"And that's about it," Harry finished.

He stole a glance at Ron and Hermione. Both of them had similar expressions on their faces; their eyes and mouths were wide open. Noticing that Harry was looking at them, Hermione sat up straight and closed her mouth. "Well, I did say you could tell us anything, didn't you? Are you sure this wasn't an effect of that Imperius thing Voldemort came up with– that it was the product of some deranged fantasy someone else came up with?"

Harry shook his head. "I thought I was crazy, too. Like I said, I didn't accept it until New Year's. Even then, I still didn't want to believe it. Who wants to fall in love with their Potions professor, especially one they thought they hated for six years?"

"So is that why he offered you the apprenticeship? So you two could be together?" she asked.

"Actually, no. I'm sure that was partly it, but he actually does think that I would make a good Potions Master," Harry replied proudly.

Hermione forced a smile. "And you're sure this is a good idea?" she asked.

"I think so," Harry said. "The apprenticeship would open me up to so much. I would get to do something that I know I enjoy that isn't hunting dark lords or flying on a broomstick. Who knows, I could even become a professor at Hogwarts. Wouldn't it be great to stay here and teach?"

"That sounds wonderful, Harry. But I meant things with Professor Snape," Hermione interrupted.

Harry stared at her, trying to come up with words that would convince them of his feelings. "Yeah. I love him. I know that sounds crazy, and maybe I am a little nuts, but it's true. I have never felt like this about anyone before."

"You're young," Ron said. "These feelings might not last forever."

"Is that what you say to Hermione?" Harry asked, an eyebrow raised. "Look, I know that being with Severus is a little unconventional, but since when have I ever been one to follow societal norms?"

"He's got a point there," Ron said, turning to Hermione. "He may be off his rocker, but at least it's consistent, right?"

"So, how angry are you with me?" Harry asked, shrinking.

"I'm not angry," Ron said immediately. "I knew that there was something going on, and while I'm a little hurt you didn't tell me, I do understand. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't tell me either. I tend to get a little hot headed about those kinds of subjects, don't I?" he asked good naturedly.

"And I'm not mad either. I just want to make sure that this is the best decision for you to make right now," Hermione added.

"Good," Harry said. "Neville didn't take it so well. Or he did, but he definitely didn't approve. And Terry won't even speak to me really."

"Well, you kind of used him."

"I didn't though," Harry insisted.

"You did," Ron said. "Give him time. He'll come around, just like the rest of us."

"Anyway, why are you even here? Shouldn't you be off with your lover?" Hermione asked in a sweet voice.

"I don't really know where his personal rooms are," Harry said.

"Where did you -"

"It's better if you don't ask any more questions," Harry said gently to Ron. "You don't want to know those answers."

Ron nodded. "Fair enough."

"Well, go find him. Use the Marauder's Map," Hermione suggested.

What a grand idea. Why hadn't he thought of that? Harry opened his trunk and pulled out the bit of slightly used parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The map's ink began to run through the pages. He looked through the dungeons, eventually finding a spot that said, _Severus Snape_. He grinned and closed it up. "Mischief managed!"

"I could only imagine what your dad would say if he saw the use you just put his map to," Ron said, shaking his head.

"Hey, no jokes about my dad. I know he wouldn't have liked it, but he would have got over it too. Well, I'll see you two later."

"Bye Harry!" Hermione gave him another hug. "I accept your decisions, no matter how mental they seem to be."

"Thanks for the support, Hermione."

Harry walked down the hallways of the castle, feeling as if he was floating. He was heading out to see his boyfriend, the man he loved. It was a thrilling feeling. He couldn't wait to share with the whole world that he was in love with Severus. Together, they could do anything.

"Going for a walk?" he heard someone ask.

"Malfoy, I'm really not in the mood."

"Hey, I just wanted to say congratulations on getting rid of You Know Who," Malfoy said, holding his hands up.

Harry sighed. "Thanks. I know it meant so much to you."

Malfoy frowned. "It did. They were bloody after me, remember? Plus, I was not a fan of all of the killing."

"Okay, I'm sorry. And – thanks for helping me. You didn't have to come and you risked your life to do it. You saved all of those people, including Muggles and Muggleborns."

A grin broke out on Malfoy's face. "Remember, I didn't help _you_. You were just along for the ride. And it is possible I don't _hate_ Mudbloods."

Harry nodded. Even though Malfoy was one of the oddest blokes he had ever met, he was finally beginning to understand him.

"Off to see the love of your life?" Malfoy asked, his expression suddenly changing.

"This was what you really wanted to ask me about, wasn't it?" Harry asked, crossing his arms.

"Well, yeah. How long have you been shagging now?" Malfoy grinned.

"I don't want to share that with you."

"I am glad you crazy birds worked out."

"I'm not sure which Malfoy I prefer: the one who hates me and insults my friends, or the one who is so obsessed with my love life, I am convinced he is Imperiused by an obsessive _Witch Weekly_ reader."

"I would go with the one who isn't trying to kill you and your mates," Malfoy replied with a smirk.

"I suppose you're right," Harry agreed. "You were right about Severus too," he admitted.

Malfoy punched the air with his fist. "Yes! I called it! If anyone ever asks, you had better mention my name."

"So if anyone asks me about my relationship with Severus, I am supposed to say, 'Malfoy knew first'?"

"Sounds about right."

"I understand you less and less every day," Harry said.

"Well, you run off to your bloke. I'm sure he's waiting for you. It's been nearly a week since you last saw him, right?"

"Right. I would clear out real quick if I were you." Harry's eyes flashed mischievously, and Malfoy turned around and left, still cackling about how he was right all along.

He approached the dungeon corridor, and, remembering that he had to turn right, he moved over. Glancing around, he didn't see a door, just a dead end. "Severus?" he called softly. "I know you're in there."

There was no answer. He started knocking on the stone walls. "How do you get into this bloody place?" he asked.

Then, a wiggle happened in one of the walls he was facing. He blinked several times as Severus walked straight through the wall. Harry stared. "You're not a ghost, are you?" Harry asked in horror.

"Of course not. This is how I get in and out of my rooms. It looks like just a dead end, when really, it's where I live."

"So still a dead end," Harry grinned.

"How did you find me?" Severus asked.

"I have my ways," Harry responded. "I just got out of the Hospital Wing, so I thought I would swing by to say hello."

"Just to say hello?" he asked, an eyebrow rising.

"Well, you know, I have my own brand of hello as well."

"Come in then," Severus said. "I'll key the bloody wards to your magical signature so you don't have to go about banging on my walls."

He followed Severus inside. He glanced around appreciatively. Despite the dark, angry Slytherin he appeared to be, he was a wonderful decorator. Severus' rooms were tasteful: still dreary stone walls, but beautiful wooden bookcases lined them, filled with hundreds, if not thousands of books. There was a cream-colored rug underneath their feet that covered most of the room, and a roaring fireplace that sent heat all the way across the room to him.

"You have a lovely place," Harry commented.

"Why, thank you, I'm sure glad that the boy with no fashion sense likes my room. My life is complete now."

Harry smiled. The insults seemed more like being playful; he was really just being sweet. It was something he was used to, something he could appreciate, something that was now lovable about Severus.

"So, what do you want to do now?" Severus asked. "You defeated the Dark Lord; you are Dumbledore's favorite boy again, despite your lack of rule-following. I'm sure that this week, you will accept an apprenticeship to the most amazing Potions Master there is. What more could you possibly want?"

Taking Severus' hands in his, Harry leaned in close. "Well, there is this man who I can't seem to get out of my head. I hope he feels the same way about me as I do about him."

"Oh?" Severus asked, pulling his hands away from Harry's and running his fingers through the boy's hair. "And what if he did?"

"I would say that he should take me to the bedroom," Harry replied, his lust threatening to consume him right there.

Severus pulled Harry through a door and pushed him across the room, sending him directly onto the bed. When he went to sit up, Severus practically jumped on him, pushing him back and meeting his lips in a searing kiss. Harry held on, feeling the familiarity of Severus' lips to his own. It felt so good, like nothing had changed at all. He ran his fingers up and down Severus' back as he ravaged his mouth and tongue, occasionally gasping for air.

One article of clothing at a time and they were both nude. Severus ground his cock into Harry's. Feeling them side by side, their pre-come mixing in with each other's caused Harry to let out a cry of want. "Please," he begged.

"Always so impatient," Severus muttered, licking up Harry's neck slowly and tantalizingly. "I was thinking, if you wanted, you could top tonight."

Harry stopped thrusting upwards and stared at Severus. "You want me to what?"

"You could penetrate me tonight, instead of the other way around."

"Is that what you want?"

"I do."

"Will you at least walk me through it? I'd rather not bollocks it up."

"Of course I will, I don't fancy you tearing me."

"Shouldn't I be on top then, if I'm going to top?"

"I'm going to ride you," Severus said seductively. "I want you to watch me as I prepare myself for you."

Harry stared as Severus drew three fingers to Harry's mouth and had Harry suck them thoroughly, then slowly brought them to his entrance making sure that Harry was watching the entire time. He watched Severus slowly begin thrusting in and out of his body. Harry's cock ached as Severus moaned and began to move faster. He wanted so badly to be inside of Severus, to fill him to the brim with his come.

"I can't – wait – I need to – "

"We really will have to work on your stamina," Severus smirked, but removed his fingers anyway and coated his long prick in lube.

"Shut up and let me fuck you," Harry replied.

"With a mouth like that, I don't know if you deserve it anymore."

"I'm sorry, just please, I need you so much," Harry pleaded.

"Such a demanding young man," Severus said, kissing him deeply and making sure to run his hands firmly down Harry's back, his nails marking him. Oh, yes, Severus was not going to make this easy. Harry impatiently wiggled his hips.

Severus pulled away and stood on his knees. He positioned Harry's prick at his entrance and slowly moved down, filling himself with Harry and somehow managing to keep his face completely relaxed. Both of them breathed a sigh of relief – he wasn't the only one who was getting worked up, Harry thought to himself.

Once Harry was completely inside of Severus, he shuddered slightly. Harry had never experienced anything like this. Severus was so tight, filled with so much warmth. It was better than any blowjob he had ever endured. This was heaven, and he never wanted it to end.

"Move," Harry whispered. "Ride me."

Severus grabbed hold of the bed post and began to push himself up and down, first slowly and then more rapidly. "Gah." Harry had to bite down on his bottom lip in order to keep from crying out; Severus just felt too bloody good.

Harry stroked his lover's hard chest, which was directly over his face. He knew that this wouldn't last long even while biting down on his lip; they were both so desperate for each other. God, they were nearly over the edge by their first kiss. Severus began moving deeper, more strongly, angling himself down on Harry's aching cock. Harry let out a loud moan and reached for Severus' prick, which was bobbing up and down with their movements and began stroking him. Severus let out a low cry – he would later refer to it as a manly bellow – and thrust deeper, harder, faster.

Knowing he only had a few more seconds of bliss before he came, Harry thrust into him as well, filling himself up as much as he could, making this perfect moment last. Finally, he was sent over the edge with one last push by Severus. Harry cried out, babbling promises of love and a future together as he came deep inside of Severus, deeper than he never knew was possible. Then, Severus too, came, jets of white hot spunk ribboning out between them.

Severus moved himself off of Harry's cock, collapsing onto him. Harry groaned lightly, feeling empty after having been so far deep into his lover; he couldn't wait to do it again. They kissed, tasting sweat and come on each other. It was absolutely perfect and more than Harry could have ever dreamed of.

"I love you," Severus whispered to Harry, not making eye contact.

Harry squeezed Severus' arm and grinned. "I know." No, now it was better than any of Harry's dreams.


	17. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"It is with a great sense of honor that I accept Professor Snape's offer as his apprentice. I look forward to staying here at Hogwarts to learn about the subject I have grown greatly fond of this year," Harry said to a large group of wizards, all scribbling furiously with their quills.

It was June. Harry had passed all of his NEWTS with flying colors, only Hermione beating him overall. He and Severus had been relatively inseparable since the night in the dungeons. He had told the rest of his friends about his relationship with Severus. Several of his friends, including Seamus, seemed unfazed by the news – they congratulated him on finding someone and moved on. Ginny had been a little angry, mostly hurt that she hadn't been told before. That was just Ginny's way though; she was always a little dramatic. Thank Merlin that Harry didn't have to deal with girls anymore. Terry had finally forgiven Harry for the betrayal. In fact, he had even taken Harry shopping to buy clothes for this press conference. He was in a pair of dark jeans and a black and white argyle jumper. Terry insisted that he keep his Muggle roots, as Muggle fashion was in this season.

"Mr. Potter, what gave you the inspiration to become a Potions Master? You have always indicated that you wanted to be an Auror, as cited in dozens of interviews and articles," a journalist asked, staring at Harry expectantly.

Harry smiled at the crowd. "I am done with hunting dark wizards. Do I enjoy Defense Against the Dark Arts? Yes. Do I want to make that my life? No, it brings up so many bad memories. I want my future to have good memories, to start a new life. Potions will allow me to do that. In fact -" Harry stopped and glanced at Severus, who was sitting in the front row. He nodded at him and gave a small smile. Severus rose and joined Harry on the stage. He looked smugly at the mass of reporters and rested his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry joined hands with Severus. "In fact, I will be working with the man I love. I would like to announce here and now that I am currently romantically involved with Professor Snape."

Shouts of surprise echoed through the room. "What did he just say?" was heard several times, along with, "What kind of drugs are you on, Mr. Potter?"

"Settle down, settle down!" cried another journalist. "Mr. Potter, do you care to elaborate at all?"

"I love him, he loves me, and there is nothing that anyone can do about it," Harry smiled. "I will be happy to learn from him."

"Do you anticipate any problems in the future, dealing with his demanding nature, as both apprentice and lover?" another journalist called.

"I don't expect Severus to change overnight, if that's what you meant to ask," Harry joked. "I know exactly what I am getting myself into. Yes, we will fight, and yes, we have different views on the world, but isn't that what love is all about? Challenging each other, finding new ways to see things? We will always find each other, and that is what is really important, no matter how unpleasant our beginning was. It is most definitely a pleasant ending."

-The End-

* * *

I'd like to give a huge thanks to those of you who took the time to read this! This was the first long fic I wrote in nearly eight years! It was originally written for NaNoWriMo in 2011, went through multiple re-writes through the summer of 2012, and was finally submitted to the Snape Potter Comm on LiveJournal for Snarry Big Bang. You can find accompanying artwork for this fic by daisygirl_080 on the Snape Potter Comm (either LJ, IJ, or DW).


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